


spoils of a battle well-fought

by let_them_be_happy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Please be nice, This probably sucks, alfrid is a touchy dick, au before Desolation of Smaug, but it goes into Desolation of Smaug, i suck at elvish, i suck at summaries, i think in both senses of that phrase, the master is a dick, they are good friends, they do not fuck here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_them_be_happy/pseuds/let_them_be_happy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil's opinion of the Master of Laketown goes down by about a million times when the Master "gifts" a Man as a servant to Thranduil in the hopes that some time in Mirkwood will improve the Man's behaviour. But, Thranduil has other plans that do not involve physical torture. </p><p>This is on FanFiction too, so don't be surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thranduil

There was a strange look in Tauriel's eyes when she came into his throne room that evening, curiosity hiding some other emotions as she looked at him. "There is a visitor here to see you, my lord," she said simply, not bothering to further elaborate and instead waiting for a sign that Thranduil did indeed wish to hear more of what she had to say. All it took for her to continue was a rather bored wave of the Elvenking's hand. "He is a Man of Laketown, arriving here no longer than half an hour ago and reportedly here on the Master's behalf," Tauriel continued, her shifting on her feet giving away her emotions.

"Oh?" Despite the apparently interested tone the word took, it was plain to see that this tidbit of possible change from his daily routine caught absolutely none of Thranduil's attention. "Does he give a reason for his coming? Or is it simply because the Master is a lazy bigot who does not desire to leave his place of so-called luxury to face me himself with his complaints?"

His captain of the guard cleared her throat. "This Man offered no such explanation, my lord. He carries with him a letter addressed to you from the Master, however, and he appears to be greatly troubled by having to enter your lands without your permission. No doubt he has heard tell of the many tales told in your name, my lord," Tauriel added, inclining her head slightly in respect to him.

Thranduil sighed internally before he began to sit up on his throne. "Bring him in, Tauriel," he said, once he had sat up completely. With a quick nod, Tauriel turned on her heel to leave the room, before returning shortly afterward with the Man behind her. "Does the Master of Laketown find me to be so unimportant that he refuses to meet with me himself?"

It was amusing when it seemed the Man wasn't sure how to take Thranduil's statement, even if it appeared that he agreed with the Elvenking. "I was not told of his intentions, my king. I only know that I was told to bring this message to you and prepare for a very lengthy stay in Mirkwood," the Man said, dropping to one knee in front of Thranduil's throne as he held out a rolled up piece of parchment, presumably the Master's letter.

Something about the Man nagged at Thranduil as he stood from his throne and descended the staircase. "I would have you walk with me," the Elvenking said after a moment of observing the Man, taking the letter from the stranger as he did. "I understand that it is a far journey from Laketown, though perhaps not as far as it may well seem. None the less, I shall offer you my hospitality, if only as gratitude for doing what the Master himself does not see fit to do," Thranduil continued, rolling open the letter without looking at it and choosing instead to watch the Man follow him out of the corner of his eye. He gave Tauriel a nod to where she was waiting, silently indicating that she follow them.

"I offer you my most sincere thanks, my lord," the Man said, following Thranduil with his head still bowed slightly and at least two steps behind to indicate his inferior status to the Elvenking. Normally such a gesture would leave the king unruffled but with this Man it seemed entirely unnatural, as if the action was not his default gesture when dealing with another. Thranduil silently kept that as a note in his mind as the three of them continued down the grand halls towards the Elvenking's study. "I must say, however, that I am unworthy of such a thing as the hospitality of the Elvenking of Mirkwood," the Man added just as they were reaching Thranduil's study.

Upon reaching their desired destination, Thranduil gave Tauriel a look, to which she nodded, signalling for her to stay outside of her king's study. Silently, she assumed her post, holding her feet apart and her hands behind her back. This having been done, Thranduil continued inside his study, closing the door for privacy once he and the Man were both inside. "Now, what matters are of such importance that it involves ordering one of his men to prepare for an extended stay in my kingdom? I offer no such offense to you," Thranduil added offhandedly to the Man awkwardly shifting from foot to foot in his study as he turned his attention to the letter in his hands.

_My most honorable king Thranduil,_

_In return for the services you have offered the people of Laketown in their most desperate times of need_  - here Thranduil suppressed a scoff as the Master had no doubt hoarded away the gold sent to Laketown in order for them to continue their trade for the most basic of life's necessities -  _I send you this most humble of gifts. This is one of my servants who I believe will benefit from a short stay in your care. He is not perhaps the most obedient at his best, but I firmly believe that he will learn under the firm grip of your mastery. Should he prove uncooperative, I have found that a whip or hot iron is a good instrument to remind him of his place._  - Thranduil turned his eyes back up to the Man briefly, no doubt in wonder of how many times this Man had spoken out against the Master and been punished for it -  _Still, it is best to remember that I offer him to you freely as a gift as a gesture of thanks from the people of Laketown, and not least of all myself._

_Your most humble servant,_

_The Master of Laketown_

Thranduil forced himself to repress a shudder as he crumpled the letter in his hands slightly before forcing himself to toss it carelessly on his desk. He clenched his hands into fists briefly, only moments before he spotted a container of wine thankfully sitting on a table. Beside the container sat two goblets, which Thranduil was eternally grateful. He did not know exactly how his servants had known that he would bring the Man to his study, but he was glad that they had ways of communicating his needs without him knowing.

"If I am not out of line in my asking," the Man began rather hesitantly, drawing Thranduil's attention back to him. "What exactly was the Master's reason for writing and sending the letter now sitting on your desk?" Thranduil wasn't exactly sure if the unspoken part of the Man's question  _which he then ordered me to bring while preparing to stay here_  or  _which caused such a reaction from you_. Either way, Thranduil would have applauded the Man for voicing either one of his thoughts.

In lieu of providing an acknowledgement to the Man's question, which Thranduil later considered was fairly rude, the Elvenking moved straight to the unopened container of wine, forcing it open with considerable aggression before moving back to where he had stood previously with the container of wine and the two goblets in his other hand. "It seems," Thranduil began, forcing his voice to remain neutral, "that the Master has seen fit to gift you to me as my servant to do with as I please." As he finished speaking, Thranduil placed the container of wine and goblets down rather forcefully onto his desk.

Thranduil had to give the Man credit - he didn't flinch, not when the container made a rather worrisome noise with the force Thranduil used to put it down, nor when he discovered he now essentially belonged to the elf in front of him and whose study he was currently standing in. "Was there anything of a more pressing nature that the Master  _saw fit_  to put in his letter, my king?"

"No," Thranduil said, giving the letter a dirty look, his anger simmering down somewhat as he took time to pull himself back together. Instead, he turned his eye back to the Man. It was with a curious eye that the Elvenking looked over the Man before him, taking a moment to study this stranger. It was a bit bizarre, this whole affair, beginning, no doubt, with Thranduil's choice to bring the Man to his study in the interests of privacy. Thranduil knew he shouldn't become attached to a Man, whose life span was nothing was nothing compared to the eternity of an elf's life span. And yet…

And yet something about this Man drew Thranduil to him, intriguing the elf as he watched the way this Man held himself and behaved behind his manners.

"What is your name?"

Obviously, the Man had not been expecting to be asked this question, as his reaction to it was rather slow. Thranduil supposed he shouldn't really take offense when the Man looked as if he was contemplating the king's question. "If I may, why do you ask?"

Thranduil inclined his head slightly to the Man, indicating that it was not out of the Man's place to ask the elf such a thing. "If you are worried that I will punish you by mocking you with your own name, I assure you I do not stoop to such a level. Nor do I resort to base physical torture," he added, not without disgust as he gestured widely to the letter from the Master of Laketown sitting, still open, on his desk. "It often escapes me how Men seem to take it upon themselves to torture their fellow kin for petty little things."

It appeared that the Man was not used to being treated as an equal, more as an inferior if his reaction to Thranduil's statements gave the king any indication. "Would you take it as an offense if I were to keep my name to myself, my lord?" Thranduil shook his head, indicating the negative, as if a little thing like privacy could offend him. "I have learned in my time that a name is more powerful than an average man tends to believe."

"You have learned well then," Thranduil commented, pouring wine into two goblets. "If not by your name, what may I call you?"

The Man considered this for several moments, Thranduil waiting until he'd made a decision to hold one of the goblets full of wine out to his new servant. "Back in Laketown, the people called me Dragonslayer, if only as a mockery."

Thranduil looked at the Man curiously, his eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit. "Why would they give you such a title in mockery? To slay a dragon is not feat to be scoffed at," he said as his servant - Dragonslayer - took the goblet of wine from him.

Dragonslayer looked down into the wine, shaking his head just the tiniest bit. "Because I am the man whom they sent to kill a dragon to prove my worth and failed," he explained simply, bringing the goblet to his lips in order to avoid further discussion on that topic. "If that name should displease you, my lord, it should be known that my previous occupation was as a bargeman," Dragonslayer said after a long sip of wine, glancing up at Thranduil before taking another long drink.

"Very well then," Thranduil said, once the silence that stretched on between them seemed to go on for too long. "You shall be known as Dragonslayer here, and only Bargeman if you should so desire. However, you should know that none of my people treat a title such as Dragonslayer with mockery. We elves have faced the wrath of dragons before, so we do not devalue any person who has the bravery and courage to face one on his lonesome."

His new servant dipped his head low, acknowledging Thranduil's words. "I will do well to remember that, my lord. As it is, the title remains a mockery in my recent memory. No doubt more than one person was happy to hear that I have been sent to work among the elves as the Master's gift to you," Dragonslayer said, fingering the goblet while he looked into the liquid with sad eyes.

"Have you no one there to miss you, Dragonslayer?" Thranduil looked at Dragonslayer again, not quite understanding how it could be that this Man could have no one left in the world, let alone in his own home. It may appear as though Thranduil was heartless and uncaring, but that did not speak to his ability to observe things. He knew it was uncommon for a person such as the Man before him to lack attachments of any kind.

"If I do not offend you, once again, my lord, I would prefer to keep my sorrows to myself." Dragonslayer dipped his head again, the action seeming to have been ingrained as the proper action when his submission needed to be shown.

Thranduil, however, was not pleased with this action, though he took no offense from Dragonslayer's decision. "I respect that a person has things which they wish to keep to themselves. However, I do not respect the way in which it appears you have been treated previously, by the Master of Laketown and by your fellow Men in that town. From this point on," he continued, making a very rash decision indeed. "You are under my protection. Should the Master find some issue with this declaration, he is free to take his complaints to me directly." As he spoke, Thranduil turned to face the fire crackling in his chambers.

Out of the corner of his eye, the elf watched as Dragonslayer looked at Thranduil with complete and utter surprise, only to bring his head back down once he noticed that the Elvenking was turning back to him. "I do not know how to thank you, my lord, or even if it is in my capacity to repay you for such an act," Dragonslayer said, his eyes focused on his goblet of wine.

"Your payment can begin when you look me in the eye as you speak," Thranduil replied, almost too quickly for his own tastes. Still surprised, Dragonslayer slowly brought his head up so that his eyes could meet Thranduil's, granting the Elvenking with the sight of a gorgeous, earthy brown to contrast the king's own ice blue. "Very well." Thranduil startled both of them when he spoke, his voice coming out much softer than he had considered it would. "You are dismissed for the night. Tauriel will show you to your quarters. Should they be dissatisfying in any way, inform me in the morning."

Dragonslayer's surprise seemed as if it was going to become a common thing as he nodded again to Thranduil. "Thank you, my lord," he said quietly, just before he slipped out of the door to Thranduil's study.

It was only after Dragonslayer had left that Thranduil put a name to the thing that had drawn the elf to the new servant. It was nobility.

This revelation left Thranduil reeling slightly, but not off-balance enough that he was unable to put pen to paper in order to inform the Master of Laketown that the man "gifted" to him as a servant was now under his protection and that no harm would come to him, if Thranduil were able to stop it from occurring.

If he were not able to stop it, Thranduil had no doubt that he would unleash his full wrath upon those who saw fit to treat this Man with so much nobility in his stance, in his behavior, in his very blood as anything less than an equal. Should Thranduil discover who it was that had decided that a mighty title such as Dragonslayer be a mockery for a failure, whether it be some lowly common person or the Master of Laketown himself, the elf again had no doubt that they would be the first victim to his wrath.


	2. Tauriel

Tauriel took no joy from the look on the Man's face as he exited Thranduil's study, looking just as troubled as when he had stepped foot into Mirkwood. She watched him as he seemed to have difficulty finding his bearings again, offering him a small smile when he looked up at her, if only because she wished to see him in a better mood. "Are you Tauriel?"

"That I am," Tauriel replied, not moving from where she was stationed even as the Man shifted on his feet.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "The king, he said that you would show me to my quarters," the Man explained, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides.

"Of course," Tauriel said, beginning down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder briefly to make sure that the Man was following her. "I do not mean to intrude, but what is your purpose here? Does it have to do with some of Laketown's business with King Thranduil?"

She listened to the sounds of their footsteps as the Man seemed to consider his answer to her question, seeming utterly bewildered and extremely troubled if the answer was indeed the reason for his mood. "I have just now discovered that I have been given to King Thranduil as a servant on behalf of the Master, as a token of goodwill." He looked up, surprised when Tauriel suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. "Have I done some wrong? Is there an issue?"

Tauriel shook her head minutely, staring at him. "How is it that the Master sees fit to gift a man who he has no claim over to another who is scarcely in need of another servant? You are undoubtedly of more use in your own home, in no offense to you," she added quickly, not meaning to offend this Man. "I do not wish to be rude, but why does the Master see that this is a reasonable course of action?"

It pained her to see the Man smile with such self-loathing as he did at that moment. "It has never surprised me that I have never been on the Master's list of people to rise in his ranks, nor very high in the ranks of the people of Laketown, I assure you. The Master and I have always been at odds with one another, resulting in more than one punishment," he concluded, looking down at his feet.

For a moment, Tauriel forgot her concerns that the Man was to be staying in the Forest with them, in the halls of the Elvenking of Mirkwood. "Why do you look down when speaking to me? Are we not equal to one another?"

The Man shifted, his head still bowed minutely. "I did not think us to be," he said, quieter than he had been speaking before.

Tauriel looked at the Man in front of her, making a decision. "We are equals," she said confidently. After a moment, she moved to where she could meet the Man's eyes where they were still downcast. "What is your name?"

"I have asked to keep that to myself and King Thranduil has accepted," the Man said, bringing his head back up to look Tauriel in the eye, the elf following his movement. "But, so that you may have something to call me by, I have offered the title Dragonslayer in its place."

"It is a noble deed, to have slain a dragon," Tauriel said, continuing down the hall.

She would have been lying if she had said that she had not anticipated, if only subconsciously, Dragonslayer's next words. "It is a title of mockery, meant to ridicule me and remind me of my failure," he said, following Tauriel and halting once more as she did.

Tauriel turned on her heel to look at Dragonslayer. "I believe I am finding more than one fault with the Master of Laketown and find myself with a strong desire to see some ill deed performed on his person," she said coldly, her demeanor reverting back when she looked at the Man once again. "Why is it that the people of Laketown, as they have no doubt followed the Master's actions in his behaviour towards you, treat you the way it seems they have? Have you done some horrible crime to them to warrant such a way of misery?"

Dragonslayer paused for a moment, considering whether to tell Tauriel the reasoning as he knew it or to keep that information to himself. "I can offer you only that it involves my ancestry and that the Master has always believed that my tongue will lead to no good," he said, choosing the third option where he gave only a small amount of information.

He wasn't quite sure how to interpret the look on Tauriel's face as the two of them continued walking once more. "I understand the burden of holding one's tongue in situations where your opinion may not be the most highly valued," Tauriel said, drawing Dragonslayer back to their conversation. "It is not often that an opinion is sought when a person believes their own opinion to be the correct one."

"Are you referring to King Thranduil or some other person who has often refused to hear your opinion with the threat of physical punishment?"

The dark look on Tauriel's face was quickly developing a place there as she looked at Dragonslayer again, however continuing to walk down the halls. "King Thranduil only punishes those who have done some grave wrong with some physical injury. Otherwise he provides those who have done wrong with a stern reprimanding and perhaps some menial task for them to prove themselves not incompetent. I would hope that our king would have informed you of his ways," Tauriel said, side-glancing at Dragonslayer as she did.

For a very long moment, Dragonslayer debated internally between voicing his thoughts and actually answering the not-question Tauriel had just posed to him. He decided to do both, just not in the order he'd considered his options. "King Thranduil did indeed mention his distaste for physical punishments, though a good portion of it may have simply been attributed to the fact that the Master was the one ordering the punishments, if not fulfilling them himself. However, that does not answer the question I asked regarding the king and your opinions," he continued, silently wondering if he'd crossed an invisible line.

Clearly Dragonslayer was doing something right if Tauriel didn't kill him on the spot for what he knew was an incredibly personal question. "It is no secret that I have often disagreed with our king as to certain policies he holds in regards to the protection of our home," Tauriel said after she had thoroughly considered what her answer may provide to the Man in way of Thranduil and his personality. "As you have no doubt learned, there are often infestations of spiders from Dol Guldur in our home. King Thranduil has repeatedly denied me the ability to go to Dol Guldur and kill the spiders at their source before they decided that our home is not enough and spread to other lands."

"It does seem that that would be the best way to prevent spiders from entering Mirkwood ever again," Dragonslayer said, his tone changed ever so slightly from previously as he nodded in a knowing manner. "No doubt were the king to understand that, then he would allow you to take a group of warriors and kill them so as to not have to worry about having to kill them once they reach here again?"

Tauriel gave Dragonslayer a grin. There was a reason she knew she'd liked him. "I believe it would be difficult for the king to refuse should he be brought to see it from that point of view," she agreed. "However, it is known to many here that the king no longer listens to my opinion on such matter because I have often attempted to provide King Thranduil with the solution of traveling to Dol Guldur. Were he to hear this information from someone who is, perhaps, not known for this reputation, it is possible that King Thranduil could be persuaded to see reason," Tauriel said, a nagging feeling that Dragonslayer would do such a thing without her prodding him into such an action.

Dragonslayer seemed to mull over the implications over such an action for quite some time. "It is possible that King Thranduil could listen to me as it has already been proven that he appears to value my individuality, if only for the rebellion I may or may not have begun against the Master of Laketown. Should I bring this subject up in possible future conversations, there is the likelihood that I could go so far as to mention your position in how to deal with the spiders in a more permanent manner," he said, a slight smile growing on his face.

It would have proved impossible for a being with less self control to contain themselves with such an amount of joy as Tauriel felt in that moment, despite her prior knowledge of Dragonslayer's motives. As it was, Tauriel's self control was hard-won, so she felt that a smile was sufficient in order to express her joy. "That would be most beneficial to our people. I thank you most dearly for doing such a thing when you are by no means obligated to," Tauriel said, inclining her head to Dragonslayer.

And wasn't  _that_  an expression that Thranduil would just love to see on Dragonslayer's face, Tauriel thought as the Man in front of her flushed slightly. "Thank you," he said, fidgeting with his hands as he did. After a moment, his expression changed, his brow furrowing. "What do I call you?"

Yet again, Tauriel felt an incredibly strong urge to find the Master of Laketown at the soonest possible time and strangle his filthy neck. Or run him through with a sword. Or shoot him with multiple arrows. "You may call me Tauriel," she said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. She stopped walking again, this time because they had finally reached their destination. "Did you bring any of your belongings with you?"

Dragonslayer nodded, hefting a relatively small pack over his shoulder. "I brought what was important - some clothes and some keepsakes from Laketown. What was unnecessary or I did not care for it I left in Laketown. No doubt the Master has had men take care of what left there by now."

Tauriel nodded, clearly pleased by this answer. "Very well. I will leave you to yourself then. Should you require assistance, I will make sure that everyone is aware that you are not a trespasser and should be treated with every respect, given the length of your stay here. I myself must return to my duties, Dragonslayer." She gave him a small smile when he did not look comforted by her words. "I will make an effort to check on you when I have the opportunity. No doubt you are concerned by the concept of being the only human in the company of an unknown number of Elves at your doorstep."

The Man shook his head after a moment. "My concerns are not for myself - I have no doubt that you are a warrior of your word and would do whatever was necessary to fight for your beliefs." Tauriel realized she was gifted with the sight of a small smile from Dragonslayer at the absolute disbelief on her face. "I have been told that I am an excellent judge of character." Dragonslayer turned to the door of his quarters before he turned back to Tauriel. "Thank you truly, Tauriel. I could not have asked for a more generous person to assist me in my transition. I have been shown more kindness here than I have ever hoped to find in the streets of Laketown."

She inclined her head to him. "I am glad to have made your acquaintance, even if the circumstances of our meeting are less than pleasant." Tauriel glanced down the hall from which they had just come. "Truly though, I must return to my duties. I wish you the most pleasant of times here, Dragonslayer." With one last quick smile, Tauriel took her leave of Dragonslayer. When last she looked at him, just before she turned a corner, the Man was slowly entering the quarters which he was to call his own for however long it was he was to be in Mirkwood.


	3. Legolas

A little known fact about Legolas was that he was the most prone member of his father's guard to end up covered in dirt in some way.

Therefore, when Tauriel spotted the Prince not long after leaving Dragonslayer to himself, she was not as surprised as she perhaps should have been when she noticed the large amounts of dirt covering his person. Given how it was not as unusual as it would be thought to be, Tauriel let the matter lie. It had no relevance to what she wished to discuss with Legolas.

"Legolas,  _mellon_!" Tauriel rushed over to greet the Prince, giddy with the prospect of Thranduil finally allowing her to travel to Dol Guldur. "Have you met your father's newest servant?"

Legolas looked slightly baffled by Tauriel's question. "I have not yet been back a full day, Tauriel. There has been little time for me to do much else besides unpack and meet with my father as to my reports," he said, eyeing Tauriel warily. "Why would a new - wait, my father has a new servant?"

Tauriel's face suddenly dropped, seeming as if she was suddenly remembering something that brought her mood down a considerable amount. "Yes, your father has been  _gifted_  a servant, a Man from Laketown, on the behalf of the Master of Laketown as a 'gesture of goodwill', although the Man was unaware as to his new occupation until your father informed him of it after reading the letter the Master sent along with the Man." She shook her head. "It is a business which your father does not care to take part in but has chosen to see the advantages of instead of focusing on the way in which this particular situation has occurred."

"I take it that this Man has earned his respect in the short time he has been here then," Legolas said, torn somewhere between amused and disgusted.

His friend refocused on the brighter side of things. "Yes, he has offered a solution to our problem with the spiders!" Legolas was fairly certain that the concerned look on Tauriel's face only got there because of the look on his own face. "Is that not a thing of good news?"

Legolas blinked after a moment, carefully crafting his face into a neutral expression - a tactic that he had long ago learned from his own father. "Indeed it is, Tauriel. This will save us a world of trouble in the future, should this plan succeed."

"You have doubts," Tauriel said, her expression guarded. Even as she said it, she knew she was only getting part of Legolas's response. "I have heard it myself and believe it to be a thing of great worth."

The Prince paused in consideration of his answer to Tauriel's almost-question. "It is not that I doubt the plan's worth, but rather my father's ability to see past our borders and beyond to the threat that lay beyond them." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I do not mean to dampen your mood,  _mellon_. When did this Man arrive?"

It should have been clear as to the answer when Tauriel hesitated to reply, but Legolas was still feeling the after-effects of his poor mood. "Earlier today" was what Tauriel said, causing Legolas to question his hearing. "The Man, he arrived earlier today. Currently, he is becoming as acquainted with his quarters as possible."

Legolas nodded after a moment, taking this information as best as he could while attempting to piece together how this Man managed to gain both Tauriel and his father's favor in so short a time. "And his name?"

Tauriel cleared her throat, a very human action - but Legolas wasn't about to point that out to his friend. "He has asked to be called Dragonslayer."

"A wise choice, I should think," Legolas said, just as Tauriel was beginning to get nervous again. "He has no reason to believe us were we to tell him that we mean no harm with his name and so has chosen a great title, no doubt bestowed upon him in -" Legolas cut himself off, turning his head to Tauriel with a snap. "When is the soonest possible opportunity that you believe my father will allow me to leave for Laketown and possibly snap the neck of the Master?"

It took Tauriel a few moments to figure out what it was that had the Prince in such a murderous mood suddenly. "I believe he will wish to leave himself for that opportunity when the situation presents itself," she said, making Legolas's eyebrows raise in surprise. "If Dragonslayer's reaction to my own was any indication, it was that your father showed a similar amount of outrage and disgust at the action."

The Prince let out a small noise of agreement. "I think I should like to meet this Man, if only to inform him of my sudden bloodlust against the Master of Laketown." Tauriel smiled at Legolas before gesturing for the Prince to follow her down the hall from which she had come. "How is it that this Dragonslayer has managed to discover this solution?"

Legolas was beginning to take pleasure in the way Tauriel found herself locked into a situation which would not be the easiest to explain her way out of. "I happened to mention opinions on our way to his quarters," Tauriel began.

"And how is it that it came to his attention that you had been unable to convince my father to allow you to travel to Dol Guldur to eliminate the spiders at their source?" Oh, he was so enjoying Tauriel's discomfort.

Tauriel cleared her throat again. "It may have slipped out in a thoughtless action meant to make Dragonslayer more comfortable in my presence," she said, faint spots of color appearing high on her cheeks. Legolas nodded, a warm feeling growing in his chest as he looked upon his friend in her embarrassment. Though it may have seemed appropriate while they were on patrol with one another, it would not exactly have been beneficial to the image they were to maintain were Tauriel to give into her instincts and hit Legolas playfully as she would with another member of the guard. "It is not exactly considered fair that you ask me such questions when you seem to know all of the answers, Legolas," the captain said, smiling at the Prince.

Legolas let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head at his friend's comment. "Now you confuse me for my father, Tauriel, for it is he who claims to know all of what occurs in his kingdom, not I." The two laughed, the Prince stopping beside Tauriel when she halted in front of a door in the servant quarters. "Is this the room you assigned to Dragonslayer then?" Tauriel nodded before stepping back to allow Legolas the main focus when the Prince knocked on the door.

It was moments later that it swung inwards, revealing a very concerned Dragonslayer in the doorway. Both the Man and the Prince stared at each other for a few moments before either of them resolved to say a word to one another. "Prince Legolas," Dragonslayer said, bowing to the Elf.

The Prince followed suit, inclining his head slightly to Dragonslayer instead of the bow from the waist that the Man did. "Master Bargeman," Legolas greeted their guest, familiarity in his movements. "I was unaware that you were the Man sent by the Master to reside here in my father's care, were he to offer it to you."

Dragonslayer brought his head back up, just slightly below eyeline with both Legolas and Tauriel. "Indeed, my lord. I was unaware that you would learn of my presence here so quickly," the Man replied. A slightly furrow appeared in his forehead when Dragonslayer noticed Tauriel attempting to tell him with only hand gestures to meet Legolas's eyes.

Unfortunately for Tauriel, Legolas knew her too well to leave her actions unnoticed. "Tauriel, I do not mind being interrupted if there is something you wish to tell Dragonslayer." The Prince was also familiar enough with the Man to notice the slight wince he made when Legolas referred to him by his title of mockery. "If you prefer, I could continue to call you Master Bargeman," Legolas said, briefly turning his attention back to Dragonslayer.

The Man shook his head. "I requested the title of Dragonslayer. Perhaps here, it will ease from my memory as a thing of ill will." Legolas nodded, Dragonslayer's reasoning sound to his ears. "I must admit, my lord, I am curious as to what it was Tauriel was attempting to tell me." The two of them turned their attention to the red-haired captain of the guard, who now had two spots of color high on her cheeks.

Apparently, being caught attempting to make Dragonslayer feel a bit more natural around Legolas was more embarrassing to Tauriel than one might think it would be. "I was attempting to enforce a sentiment I had expressed to Dragonslayer earlier, my Prince," Tauriel said, quickly composing herself. "My lord Legolas, if I may ask, how is it that you know Dragonslayer?"

Still amused, Legolas looked back at Dragonslayer, who's head remained slightly bowed. "He is more commonly known to me as Laketown's Master Bargeman until a few years previously. I had hoped that no ill fate had claimed him, as it has appeared that one has." He turned fully back to Dragonslayer. "Why did no one inform me as to your current state? Surely someone else must have known that we would not accept a new bargeman so easily after the good work that you did," Legolas continued, making a small smile grow on Dragonslayer's face at the Prince's praise. "I have yet to meet the replacement bargeman, though I was aware that Dragonslayer was no longer the bargeman."

"The person picked to replace me has earned their place, I assure you, my lord. They would not see any harm come to me were those your thoughts concerning the loss of my position as the bargeman," Dragonslayer said, the smile on his face growing the tiniest bit fond. "I would not see any harm come to them, should the opportunity arise. They have done nothing to contribute to my misery in Laketown."

Legolas inclined his head. "Very well. I will see to it that no one sees fit to throw this bargeman into the dungeon because they do not believe that they are in fact Laketown's bargeman," the Prince continued, an amused glint in his eyes as he referred to the dungeon. Tauriel furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "When Dragonslayer first took over as bargeman, there was a lack of communication between the Master and ourselves, resulting in the lack of information concerning the change in bargemen. One of the members of the guard familiar with the old bargeman thought that Dragonslayer was attempting to impersonate the bargeman and had him thrown into the dungeons. I was brought in in order to confirm Dragonslayer's claim that he was in fact the new bargeman."

Tauriel grinned a little. "I take it that this is when you first became acquainted with Dragonslayer then?" Legolas nodded, and Tauriel turned her attention back to the Man. "It is a wonder that you have earned the respect of both the King and Prince of Mirkwood and you have not yet been here a full day, Dragonslayer."

Dragonslayer smiled again, this time from receiving Tauriel's praise. "I thank you, Tauriel. This is twice in one day that I have received such kind words when I am still unsure as to whether or not I have deserved them."

"You have earned my father's respect as easily as you earned both Tauriel's and my own. It is not exactly an easy feat to reach the part of the Elvenking of Mirkwood wherein he so freely offers you his hospitality," Legolas pointed out. Dragonslayer opened his mouth to ask the Prince a question when said Prince anticipated it. "This is one of the fairer quarters. It does not surprise me to learn that you are no doubt under my father's protection at this point."

By this point, Dragonslayer's mouth was hanging open slightly, the Man clearly surprised by Legolas's observations. "It is true that your father mentioned something in reference to doing such a thing shortly before he sent me to Tauriel and henceforth to my quarters here. I was unaware that you were familiar with this sort of arrangement, Prince Legolas."

The corners of Legolas's mouth quirked up into a small smile, the Prince clearly amused by Dragonslayer's curiosity. "I believe there is much you have yet to learn about Mirkwood and its inhabitants, Master Bargeman. For the time being, however," Legolas continued, becoming aware of what the hour was by the yawn Dragonslayer almost successfully stifled. "I believe it would be rude for us to continue this conversation when you have had such a long day and surely require rest to recover from today's occurrences."

Dragonslayer gave a little bow, clearly grateful for Legolas's consideration. "Thank you, my lord. I would not have thought it something that would generally trouble Elves, since it is so often heard that they do not require as much sleep as us mere mortals."

Legolas nodded, taking in Dragonslayer's words. "It is true, we do not require as much rest as other races might. Still, that does not mean that we do not indulge ourselves in that luxury when time allows it.  _Losto vae_ ,  _amlugdagnir_."

The Man nodded to Legolas. "Good night, my lord." Dragonslayer nodded to Tauriel. "Good night, Tauriel."

Tauriel offered Dragonslayer a smile. " _Fuin vaer_ , Dragonslayer." He gave the two Elves in front of him another smile before closing the door. "Is there any reason in particular why you referred to his title in Elvish, my lord?" The two members of Thranduil's guard began back down the hall from which they had come.

"Dragonslayer will be spending a decent amount of time here, surrounded by Elves. Why should he not learn some of our language when he has the opportunity?" Tauriel nodded, Legolas's reasoning sensible. "Besides, it is not as if everyone will be referring to him by his title in the common tongue. More often than not, he will most likely be referred to his title in Elvish."

"I see," Tauriel said, retreating to her thoughts for a few moments. The two of them walked in silence, Legolas waiting for Tauriel to pull her thoughts together before she spoke again. "My lord, did you notice anything…unusual about Dragonslayer, either just now or when you first became acquainted with him?"

Legolas's expression became slightly grim. "If you are referring to his noble bearing, yes, I am aware of it. It is one reason why I kept an eye on him while he was Laketown's bargeman. It is no secret that the Master does not treat those he sees as a possible threat to his power kindly. Dragonslayer so happens to be an excellent example of this type of paranoia." He glanced over at Tauriel when she didn't immediately speak again. "You wonder whether or not my father has taken note of this as well," Legolas said, drawing Tauriel's focus back to him.

Tauriel opened her mouth to object before realizing that it would be useless. "It is not unlike your father to not pay attention to this he does not care to know," she said instead, silently referring to Thranduil's continual refusals to allow her to travel to Dol Guldur. "Who is to say that this is not one of those things?"

"My father has chosen to protect Dragonslayer from the Master. If he has not yet realized that Dragonslayer is of noble blood, then he would do well to do so relatively soon," Legolas said, stopping to look at Tauriel. "I have heard whispers from the darkness that seeps into Mirkwood, the constant infestation of spiders only the beginning." Tauriel frowned, confused by the Prince's words. "Never mind. It is not a matter to be worried over at the present time." Legolas turned back to the expanse of paths before them, his father's study within sight. "I should go talk to him," he said quietly.

Returning to a relatively safe topic, Tauriel nodded. "You may have had to report to him earlier, but that was as a member of his guard. Your father will be glad to see his son returned to him in safety," Tauriel said, giving Legolas a small, comforting smile. "Leave the thoughts about whatever darkness you are sensing aside. It can wait."

Legolas nodded, setting his shoulders back. "It can, but I'm not sure for how long." He looked back at Tauriel. " _Fuin vaer_ ,  _hodo vae_ ,  _mellon_."

" _Hodo vae_ , Legolas," Tauriel said, and the two of them turned to go their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> mellon - friend
> 
> Losto vae - Sleep well
> 
> amlugdagnir - dragonslayer
> 
> Fain vaer - Good night
> 
> Hodo vae - Rest well


	4. Ada a Ion

"Come in," Thranduil said at the knocking on his study door. Though it might have surprised him at any other time, finding that it was Legolas who had knocked on his door only made Thranduil glad to see his son. " _Ion_ ," the Elvenking said, standing from behind his desk to greet Legolas properly.

Legolas beamed at his father, or as much as he could while the door remained open. Both of them wished for their reputations to remain intact, after all.

(The concept that their reputations would be supposedly "damaged" were they to make official the familial love they clearly showed for one another no one in Mirkwood understood. It seemed to be a quiet thing between the father and son, so everyone decided to leave it as the King and the Prince wished it.)

" _Ada_ ," Legolas greeted Thranduil, holding his hand out to his father. Thranduil grasped it in the warrior's handshake, squeezing slightly as a reassuring pressure on his son's forearm. "How have the days between my leaving and my return decided to look upon you?"

Thranduil inclined his head. "I have been well, Legolas. I can only hope it has been the same for you, though, no doubt, the conditions were far less fair than those you would see within the walls of your home," the Elvenking said, the two of them moving to sit as Thranduil spoke. Legolas nodded, confirming that he had been treated in the best manner, though he did not exactly wish it as he was a member of Mirkwood's guard the same as everyone else he traveled with. "I have a matter with which I think I would like to discuss with you,  _ion_."

"Oh?" Though Legolas was fairly certain he knew of the subject his father was about to broach, he did not have to feign surprise at Thranduil's statement. He may have been the Prince, but that did not mean his father confided in him with all things pertaining to his life.

Judging by the slightly amused look that crossed Thranduil's face, the king knew that Legolas had already been told about Dragonslayer. "No doubt, you have been informed of our latest and most unexpected guest," Thranduil began, confirming Legolas's thoughts. "I thought it only fair that you heard the words directly from myself, lest what you have been told be considered to be nothing less than a rumor. Though, if I am not mistaken, you have already had the pleasure of meeting the person of whom I speak," the Elvenking added, watching as Legolas looked more and more amused as Thranduil spoke.

"I do not take care to offend you,  _Ada_ ," Legolas began, Thranduil relaxing some into his seat. "It is only that it amuses me that this should be the first time you have met him when he was the bargeman who took our empty wine barrels back to Laketown for so many years." Watching the light of realization dawn in his father's eyes was not how Legolas expected Thranduil to react. "Did you not know?"

Thranduil considered his reply carefully, unsure as to how to make Legolas understand his thoughts. "I knew that, before the Master claimed him as a  _servant_ ," the Elvenking began, the sneer on his face clearly telling his son what Thranduil's thoughts were on that choice of the Master's. "Dragonslayer was a bargeman. The possibility had not yet come to me that he was our bargeman, or the realization that he was."

Legolas took in the rigidity that had returned to his father's posture. "It was during the time when he was the bargeman that I first became acquainted with him. He was pleasant company, and was often found in good graces, despite the mistake made when he began the job." Thranduil raised his eyebrows, curious to hear the story behind Legolas's statement. "Do you remember the incident no more than seven, eight years previously regarding our bargeman?"

With a nod, Thranduil recalled the incident that Legolas referred to, the details having been told from son to father in a similar manner to their current conversation. "Yes. A border guard threw a Man into the dungeons because he thought the Man was stealing." A look of amusement slowly crossed the Elvenking's face. "Dragonslayer was the Man thrown into the dungeons his first day as bargeman?"

His son nodded, pleased that his father did remember what was, almost undoubtedly, an insignificant event. "It was a small matter to confirm his new position as Laketown's bargeman and let Dragonslayer out of the dungeons, where he spent no longer than one night," Legolas said, anticipating his father's concern. "Even then, he did not spend it in silence. I thought it would be considered a gesture of good faith if I spent some time with him, making sure that he did not fear his demise by our hands."

Thranduil nodded again. "Well, that certainly merits a reason for Dragonslayer to be wary of us, since he has spent time in our dungeons, though admittedly with company." He gave Legolas a questioning look. "Did you hear much of how the Master treated Dragonslayer during that period? It would not be a revelation by any means to hear that the Master chose to treat him poorly, though he was given a position which should have merited at least some credit as Laketown's liaison of sorts with us."

Though he had anticipated this question, it gave Legolas no joy that he did have an answer for his father. "Unfortunately, the people of Laketown tend to be very single-minded as a collective people and, despite the horrible way in which the Master has ruled over them, they have a tendency to follow in his footsteps. The Master's treatment of Dragonslayer appeared to have carried over to the rest of the people of Laketown, save for perhaps a few."

"Do you believe it would be crippling to the people of Laketown if the Master were to suddenly and unexplainably disappear and for them to presume him dead?" Thranduil did not expect for Legolas to smile at his words the way he did, his son clearly amused by the Elvenking's statement. "Have you experienced this notion before then?"

Legolas paused for a moment, considering how to phrase his answer. "Tauriel has expressed a sentiment of a similar nature," he said, deciding on a blunt approach. "Including myself, I believe we have covered the entire kingdom for murderous urges towards the Master of Laketown." He glanced at Thranduil, his mention of murderous urges reminding him of something else Tauriel had mentioned in relation to his father. "Tauriel has also mentioned how she believes you reacted when Dragonslayer informed you of the origins of his title."

Thranduil nodded, the look on his face darkening as Legolas watched his father accustom himself to the change in topic. "I did not realize exactly how petty the Master of Laketown was until today, both his letter and his actions towards Dragonslayer making that clear." He picked up the letter from the Master and held it out for Legolas to read. Legolas took the letter, curious, and Thranduil watched his son's expression change into something very unreadable, which the Elvenking assumed Legolas learned from him

When Legolas was finished reading, he tossed it back onto his father's desk, quietly fuming as his anger towards the Master was reignited. "There is no suitable reason for taking a man away from his home and sending him away without his permission to a place where it is unknown as to whether or not he will be allowed to live." He looked back up at Thranduil after a moment, trying to read his father's face. "This is why you placed him under your protection, isn't it?"

Thranduil knew he should not have been surprised by his son's words, and yet he still found himself amazed by how much Legolas had grown up. "His quarters gave him away, didn't they?" Legolas nodded, a small smile on his face that he had correctly guessed his father's actions. "I placed him in my protection to prevent the Master from ever raising a hand to Dragonslayer again. It is an utterly distasteful business, physical punishment." The Elvenking was quiet, thinking over the letter again. He may have only read it once, but he had an excellent memory. "Have you seen any of the scars that the Master has given him?"

"Once," Legolas admitted, following his father's train of thought all too well. "He did not mean to show them, but it was the middle of summer and Men do tend to sweat an awful amount. To this day, I am amazed by Dragonslayer's strength in his endurance of the scars as results of the Master's punishments." Legolas looked at Thranduil, a thought suddenly coming to mind. "You two are alike in that aspect, did you know?"

It hurt, more than it should have, Thranduil knew. The left side of his face throbbed slightly, though Thranduil knew that the ache came from the mention of his scars. "They do not hurt,  _ion_. Do not think I do not know how you worry for my safety," Thranduil said quietly, thinking that he should not have to be reassuring his son that he would be alright. Legolas's disbelief was not new to Thranduil, though it did bother the Elvenking slightly that this remained an issue.

Legolas pursed his lips, not quite ready to believe his father despite his desire to see Thranduil fully healed. "There is the possibility that they will never fully heal." Thranduil nodded, having long ago come to the same conclusion and accepted it. "What are your plans for Dragonslayer here? We already know of his skills as a bargeman, but we do not know what the Master had him doing."

Thranduil hummed, the same thought having gone through his head several times since allowing Dragonslayer to settle himself. "I do not know. Perhaps he will be treated as the rest, though with more caution towards the duties that require excursions into the forest. It is doubtful that Dragonslayer has had much experience with a weapon of any kind." The Elvenking raised his eyebrows when the corners of Legolas's mouth quirked up. "Has Dragonslayer experience with a weapon?"

The Prince nodded, allowing himself the pride of informing his father of his friend's talents as they were. "It has long been known to me that Dragonslayer is an accomplished archer. The fact that he carried a bow with him when he first took over as bargeman was another reason as to why he was put into the dungeons on suspicion of impersonation."

"It does not surprise me that you would have had a contest with him," Thranduil said in anticipation of his son's next comment. Judging by the smug look on Legolas's face, the Elvenking had guessed correctly. "Dragonslayer must have performed relatively well in order for you to refer to him as an 'accomplished' archer."

Legolas considered his reply, still enjoying the fact that his father believed Dragonslayer was relatively unused to weaponry. "I would not allow you to underestimate him,  _Ada_. He may not be an Elf, but he is not entirely defenseless. Though, it may have been a long time since he last handled a bow, so I do not know how his skills have fared under the Master's eye."

Thranduil was proud of his son's subtlety. It worked well if Legolas's purpose was to have his father allow Dragonslayer a bow and space for him to test his skills. "Should the opportunity present itself tomorrow, you are allowed to take Dragonslayer to one of the training areas and determine how his talent for archery has done these past few years where you have not seen him," the Elvenking said, not about to let his guest go without some weapons practice during his stay in Mirkwood.

With a nod, Legolas smiled at Thranduil. " _Le hannon_ ,  _Ada_. Though, I believe you will be receiving more thanks from Dragonslayer when he realizes that it is you who gave him permission to test his skills after all of this time." Thranduil raised an eyebrow at Legolas, clearly indicative of his skepticism. "I will ensure that you are the one who tells him," his son said after a moment, already tired of his father's attempts to secretly help Dragonslayer only to receive the credit for the deed once Thranduil made his involvement known.

"Do not think I cannot tell your weariness by my wishes,  _ion_." Thranduil smiled at Legolas, standing. "You have my deepest gratitude, Legolas. I understand that this is not been the easiest of days for you," he continued, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. At Legolas's confused expression, Thranduil gave his son's clothing a pointed look.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid not all of us are able to achieve your levels of meticulous cleanliness,  _Ada_." He stood as well, determinedly ignoring his father's smug look at the clear height difference between them. "Though I will not argue that today was trying," Legolas conceded. " _Hodo vae_ , Father."

Thranduil's smile softened as he looked at his son, placing his hand on Legolas's shoulder again. " _Hodo vae_ , Legolas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Ion a Ada - Son and Dad
> 
> Le hannon - Thank you
> 
> Hodo vae - Rest well
> 
> Quel esta - Rest well


	5. Ann a Chín

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We skip forward a few months into Dragonslayer's stay in Mirkwood. Cause I really didn't have anything planned for Dragonslayer using the training range.

It turned out that free reign of the training range was only the beginning of Thranduil's "gifts" to Dragonslayer, proper clothing and a decent meal among those that the Man considered to be gifts from the Elvenking.

(He made special care not to mention his belief that decent meals were a gift to Thranduil, else the Elvenking be swayed to destroy something else. It was amusing afterwards, and Dragonslayer, Legolas, and Tauriel continue to joke about it.)

Months passed, and Thranduil found Dragonslayer a small position to fill where the Man would have no difficulties finding time to himself. Strange as it was, it seemed that Dragonslayer was most at ease in the presence of either Thranduil, Legolas, or Tauriel. Though it may have seemed stranger, Thranduil understood Dragonslayer's reluctance to speak of himself, with no doubt in his mind that the Master had no small role to play in that area.

In truth, it was by accident that Thranduil discovered more about Dragonslayer in about five minutes than he had in about five months.

Dragonslayer had been organizing paperwork in Thranduil's study when the Elvenking caught the Man looking at a very old painting sitting in its frame on the mantle above the fireplace. It was no secret that any part of Elvish history fascinated Dragonslayer, but the look on Dragonslayer's face felt personal, like this was something the Man was painfully familiar with but always just out of arm's reach. Some of Thranduil's confusion dissipated when he realized that Dragonslayer was looking at the photo of the Elvenking and Legolas, back when the Prince was still an Elfling.

Thranduil paused suddenly, feeling as if he was intruding on something intensely personal as Dragonslayer smiled to himself. A realization dawned on Thranduil then as he recognized the look of fondness on the servant's face. "Have you children, Dragonslayer?"

Immediately, Dragonslayer's head snapped up, concern clear on his face and in his eyes. "Why do you ask, my lord?" It did not escape Thranduil's attention how his servant's hands, though still at his sides, began to clench and unclench as a form of worry.

The elf held up a hand, a small attempt to ease some of Dragonslayer's concern. "I do not ask out of malice. I ask out of curiosity. You seem to be familiar with the sort of relationship I share with my own son, Legolas," he explained, watching as some of the concern disappeared from Dragonslayer's face.

Dragonslayer's hands relaxed at his sides as he realized that Thranduil was being honest. "I have three," he confessed, though he was unsure as to how much information he should be giving the Elvenking, not all of his fears extinguished by Thranduil's words. "Two girls and a boy, the eldest the spitting image of her mother at that age."

It wasn't a great stretch of Thranduil's imagination to determine that Dragonslayer was referring to the mother of his children in the past tense. "No doubt she was a beautiful woman," the elf said quietly. "What happened to her?"

When Dragonslayer shook his head, Thranduil would have been lying if he said that his heart hadn't fallen a little. "I know you mean no harm, my lord," Dragonslayer said. "But, I don't believe that I've yet reached a point where I am comfortable speaking of her freely like this," he continued as Thranduil watching the servant almost physically close in on himself.

"Dragonslayer," Thranduil began, in the same quiet voice he'd used previously. "I give you leave to return to your chambers. I do not wish to see you working until after the sun has risen tomorrow." Dragonslayer nodded his head, though Thranduil could see the confusion of the servant's face as he left Thranduil's chambers.

It was mere moments after Dragonslayer left that Tauriel entered the privacy of Thranduil's chambers, awaiting her final orders for the evening. "My king," she said, bowing slightly to the king.

Thranduil looked away from where he'd been staring at the doorway, bringing his attention to his captain of the guard thought it took him a few moments to actually focus on her. "Tauriel, ensure that the patrols are safe on their rounds tonight. And, tomorrow," he continued, not sure of what he was about to order her to do. "I want you to go to Laketown."

"Laketown?" Tauriel furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

After another moment of consideration, Thranduil nodded. "If you wish, you may have Legolas accompany you. I want you to discover what you can about Dragonslayer's family, as quietly as you possibly can. There is no telling what may happen if the Master of Laketown discovers that I am attempting to bypass him in order to discover more information."

It didn't surprise Thranduil when a look of confusion spread over Tauriel's face. "My lord, for what reason do you wish me to do this? I would not ask, but, for the look of concern on Dragonslayer's face when he left, I feel as though I must," Tauriel said, taking a step toward Thranduil as if her mere presence could get the answer from him.

"Have you not noticed it?" Thranduil looked at Tauriel, feeling as though he had to discuss this subject with someone or else he might begin to lose his mind. Tauriel furrowed her eyebrows slightly, the look of confusion not leaving her face. "Dragonslayer bears the air of nobility, buried under layers and layers of self doubt and submission due to years of being treated as an inferior."

Tauriel cleared her throat nervously. "I was not aware that you had noticed it, my lord," she admitted, almost sheepishly as she shifted on her feet. "Both Legolas and I had noticed it, but we did not consider the possibility that you had also done so."

The Elvenking did his best to try not to be offended by their assumption. "It is not often assumed that one of noble blood is unable to recognize another of their kind," he said gently, turning away from Tauriel slightly. "However, it occurs to me that such an assumption is not exactly out of place when concerning me as I have not made it my best interest to pay as much attention as I should to others." Judging by the way Tauriel ducked her head in a little bow, Thranduil assumed that was their reasoning behind their assumption.

"My apologies, my lord. It was not in my intentions to offend you," Tauriel said.

Thranduil waved a hand, finding no offense in either her opinion or his son's. "Do not fret over such a thing, Tauriel. We have discussed it. Now let us move on to more pressing matters." He pursed his lips together in thought. "What is one of noble blood doing as a servant in my halls, let alone under the apparent claim of one such as the Master?"

"If I may, my lord," Tauriel began. "Legolas and I could begin a search, using the utmost of discretion, in order to find the answer to that question when we are in Laketown searching for Dragonslayer's family tomorrow." She looked up at Thranduil cautiously, uncertain as to his position on her idea.

After a long pause, Thranduil nodded. "If you must, begin your search in Dragonslayer's ancestry with Girion, the last lord of Dale. No doubt that is the most obvious place to begin the search for Dragonslayer's lineage. It would be unlikely that any of the other noble families would have survived as long as that one has." When Tauriel let out a small sound of surprise, Thranduil turned back to her as he had begun to turn back to the fire. "Is there something of which you wish to inform me, Tauriel?"

His captain of the guard cleared her throat, shifting on her feet slightly as she had earlier. "When Dragonslayer first came to Mirkwood, that evening as I brought him to his quarters, he told me that the Master's dislike of him and his reasoning for being sent here as a servant involved his ancestry," Tauriel said, looking back at Thranduil. "I had not thought it important to mention, as it seemed to be information better to be heard from Dragonslayer's own mouth."

Thranduil hummed, accepting this information and fitting it into what he already knew about the Man. "Should it be proved true that Dragonslayer is in fact the heir of Girion, it would explain a good amount of the Master's hatred toward him and why the Master would want Dragonslayer as far away from him and as humiliated as possible," he mused, taking a sip of the wine in his hand. "The Master is not known for his discretion towards those whom he deems a threat to either his physical person or his position of power. The heir of Girion would indeed prove to be a threat to both of those aspects."

"My lord," Tauriel said, bringing Thranduil back into their conversation from where he had begun to muse to himself. "What would you have me and Legolas do should we find Dragonslayer's family in Laketown?"

Thranduil considered Tauriel's question, taking a sip of wine from the goblet in his hand as he ruthlessly squashed down the first thought to come to his mind. "It can be assumed, from the Master's treatment of Dragonslayer, that his children are unsafe so long as they remain in Laketown," he said, oblivious to the sudden look of surprise on Tauriel's face. After a moment, Thranduil let out a quiet sigh. "It appears that there are no other options. Bring them back with you, once you and Legolas have completed your mission," the Elvenking said, turning back to his captain.

Tauriel gaped at Thranduil for a moment before regaining her composure. "My apologies,  _aranín_. Did you just state that Dragonslayer has  _children_?"

"Ah." Thranduil paused, taking in a moment to realize what he had just said. "I must offer my apologies for saying such a thing without any prior knowledge on your part, Tauriel. It seems that our resident Man of Laketown is not alone in this world and is, in fact, deeply troubled because of his separation from his children, who are, no doubt, still in Laketown under the Master's rule and possible suffering a great deal more than any children should."

It was clear that Tauriel was not prepared to take this information and then do nothing about it until morning. "Then Legolas and I shall leave tonight," she stated, determinedly turning back to the door and moving as if to leave.

"Tauriel."

Thranduil had to admit to himself, the way in which Tauriel often borderline-disobeyed him was often very refreshing as it showed the true value of her spirit and revealed her true heritage as a Woodland Elf - less wise and more dangerous indeed.

Still, despite this, admittedly not always welcome, display, order had to remain if Thranduil wanted his kingdom to continue running as smoothly as it did. "These children do not deserve whatever horrors the Master had created for them, let alone the suffering they must bear without their father there to support them!"

"I agree."

"It is imperative that -" Tauriel stopped short, her head turning back to Thranduil in a snap. "Once again, my apologies, my lord, but did you just agree with me?"

The Elvenking nodded, quietly enjoying the look of utter bewilderment on Tauriel's face as he did. "I did, Tauriel. I too believe that these children are undeserving of whatever fate it is that the Master has crafted for them. However, I also believe that, were two Elves to suddenly appear in the middle of the night, inquiring about three apparently orphaned children, the Master and his lackey might become suspicious." Tauriel gaped a little when Thranduil said three children, but quickly closed her mouth and nodded when Thranduil finished speaking, understanding the point from which he was speaking.

She was fairly certain Thranduil was as angry about this situation as she was, if the way Thranduil held himself more upright told Tauriel anything. "Very well,  _aranín_. Legolas and I shall leave at dawn's first light, then." Thranduil nodded after a moment, clearly still distressed over the fate of Dragonslayer's children even if the situation was soon to be resolved. Tauriel deflated a little, unsure of how to ease Thranduil's mind. "We shall do everything we can to ensure the children's safety, my lord," she said, quieter than she had been speaking.

Thranduil nodded. "I am aware, Tauriel." He waved a hand after a moment, attempting to dissipate the tense mood between them. "You have your orders. You may inform Legolas of your travels whenever you wish. Be well rested for your journey tomorrow. And, it may be wise to go in disguise," Thranduil added, just as Tauriel was about to leave the room. "The Master is not as fond of us as he makes himself out to be, especially since he learned that I took Dragonslayer into my protection."

"Of course,  _aranín_. I shall find Legolas as soon as possible of my plans for Laketown.  _Losto vae_ ,  _hodo vae_ ," Tauriel said, bowing to Thranduil before leaving the king to his thoughts, her mind still a whorl with her new plans to go to Laketown, find Dragonslayer's children, and return with them to Mirkwood without the Master discovering her or her mission. This was going to prove to be a very interesting venture indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> aranín - my king 
> 
> Ann a Chín - Gifts and Children (from the title)


	6. That Was Surprisingly Easy

It was not that Legolas was adverse to Tauriel and his father's plan. It was that, when he got the opportunity, the Prince valued the sleep which he could receive and that led to his unusually poor mood regarding the time immediately following his awakening. "I understand that it is for a worthy cause,  _mellon_ , but could our travels not have waited until later in the day?"

Legolas was metaphorically dragging his feet on their way to Laketown. Of course, it would have been literal if he and Tauriel were not currently riding horses to the edge of the Great Lake on which Laketown rested. They intended on catching a ride with the bargeman who collected their wine barrels.

On the other hand, were Tauriel a mortal who received regular amounts of sleep, she would be what most people call a "morning person", incredibly energetic at most, if not all, hours of the day. "It  _could_  have waited. But would you not think that Dragonslayer's children have not waited long enough to be free from under the Master's thumb?"

"The sun has yet to rise fully," Legolas said, giving Tauriel a dry look. "I do believe our travels could had waited until the rest of nature was rising." It was clear that Tauriel had been expecting a response of this sort, as she merely gifted Legolas with a grin that stated that she knew exactly what she had been doing when she had told the Prince the hour of which they would begin journeying to Laketown. "And to think my father approved of the hour of our leaving," Legolas grumbled, intent on remaining on this topic for as long as it took for Tauriel to even imply that she was sorry for interrupting his sleep.

Tauriel let out a laugh, taking Legolas's complaining with good humor. "Come now,  _mellon_. You are more often than not asleep at this hour and thereby miss the beauty." She made a wide, sweeping gesture to their surroundings. "Is it not a thing of wonder?" It didn't take her much to realize that Legolas was humoring her when he looked around where she had directed.

"I don't mean to be rude," Legolas laughed when Tauriel pushed his shoulder, throwing the Prince's balance off slightly. Luckily for both, their horses were used to their mannerisms and had no desire to let either of their riders fall off. "But you knew I would act this way when you informed me of when we would leave for Laketown  _and_  when you knew that I intended on sleeping for the evening."

She scoffed, but her reply was cut off when they reached the edge of the lake and, by extension, the dock. "When will the bargeman arrive for the barrels?" The two Elves dismounted from their horses, letting them eat the grass nearby.

"If you would give me a few moments, that time will be now," a voice said, coming up to the dock on the barge. Tauriel and Legolas watched as the bargeman pulled herself towards the dock, tying the barge to the dock once she was close enough. "Now, what is it that I can do for two Mirkwood Elves?" She turned an ear to them while she heaved the empty wine barrels out of the river.

Legolas took a step towards the bargeman, worried a small bit that she would not hear him for the noise she was making as she pulled a barrel out of the water with slightly more effort that it should have taken. "We wish for safe passage to Laketown on your barge," he said clearly, making certain that his face was neutral as he spoke. He almost wished he had said nothing when she dropped a barrel to the ground heavily before turning back to them.

The bargeman brought her hood down from over her face, scrutinizing the two Elves before her. "It is not often one is asked by two Mirkwood Elves to carry them with her back to Laketown. What business do you have there? Does it involve the Master?"

Legolas opened his mouth to rely, putting a hand out to stop Tauriel before she could. Tauriel allowed the Prince to do so - after all, he was more well trained in matters of a diplomatic nature than she. "We do not mean harm by our presence, Mistress Bargeman. We only come on matter of curiosity, which we will gladly discuss more of should we decide it fit."

The bargeman humphed, rolling barrels as best as she could onto the barge. "Well, if you're looking to seek passage at a lower price, I advise you be willing to get your hands a little dirty, Prince Legolas." Legolas and Tauriel had the decency to look a little surprised when the bargeman revealed that she did indeed know who Legolas was. "I don't take on passengers for less pay without having them give me at least some help. I've not been a bargeman for many years and have not yet built up the correct muscles to do the job as efficiently as others."

"You seem incredibly aware of how these sorts of things work, Mistress Bargeman," Tauriel observed, a smile on her face.

"Aye," the young woman said, continuing to roll barrels onto the barge. "Not hard to figure out what it is that needs to be done when your life is at stake if you don't do the job right." She paused after a moment, noticing the way both Legolas and Tauriel were looking at her. "Do you two want a lesser fee for passage or not?" Tauriel and Legolas quickly turned their attention to rolling barrels onto the barge, the bargeman directing them as to where to put the barrels once they were onboard.

* * *

It wasn't until the three of them were well underway to Laketown that any of them spoke again. "Why is it that you agreed to take us to Laketown so easily? Were it anyone else, it is unlikely that they would have accepted a lesser fee so well," Legolas observed, both he and Tauriel watching the bargeman with curiosity.

"My reasons are my own, Prince. I could very well ask as to what it is you're doing in Laketown, despite your assurance that you are only going on a matter of curiosity," Mistress Bargeman shot back, clearly very distrusting of the Elves.

Tauriel and Legolas exchanged a look, deciding that the young woman's snark was enough reason. It wasn't just defense in the bargeman's words - there was honesty in there. It seemed as though Mistress Bargeman wasn't about to go running to the Master because Prince Legolas and a captain of King Thranduil's guard were in Laketown. "We're looking for three children, supposedly orphaned within the recent months," Tauriel said, making the bargeman's face go carefully blank.

It wasn't as if Tauriel and Legolas were about to ignore that sort of reaction from the young woman, especially with the question she followed up with. "And for what reason do you seek these children? Mirkwood Elves aren't exactly known for their interest in Laketown or in any area outside of their borders," Mistress Bargeman said, doing her best to avoid actually looking at Legolas and Tauriel, supposedly in the name of watching where she was sailing the barge.

"We do not search for them with a malicious intent," Tauriel replied, Legolas content to focus his attention on Mistress Bargeman's reactions to his friend's words. "Their father - we wish to inform them of his well being, at the very least. It has been many months since they were last in contact with one another and their father has become increasingly worried for them with each passing day."

Legolas wasn't quite sure what to do when he realized that Mistress Bargeman was on the verge of crying. "Tauriel," he said, nodding to the young woman. Confused, Tauriel looked from Legolas to Mistress Bargeman, her expression becoming sad when she realized the young woman's emotional state. " _Anno dulu enni!_ "

Tauriel slowly moved to Mistress Bargeman's side. " _Mell dess_ ," she said softly. "Do not be afraid of us. We do not mean any harm." Tauriel pulled the young woman into a hug, gesturing for Legolas to quickly take control of the barge. The Prince did so, keeping both Tauriel and Mistress Bargeman at the edge of his attention. Softly, Tauriel murmured words of comfort into the young woman's hairline.

It was with quiet, stuttering sobs that Mistress Bargeman allowed herself to hold onto Tauriel, the captain allowing the young woman to do so. After a moment, Mistress Bargeman pulled herself away, just enough to look up into Tauriel's face. "How is Da?"

A small, sad smile crossed Tauriel's face as she brushed a piece of hair out of the young woman's eyes. "He misses you. You, your brother, and your sister," Tauriel said, taking a good look at Mistress Bargeman's face. "What's your name,  _mell dess_?"

"Sigrid," the young woman said, sniffling a little before her eyes went wide. "The barge!" Sigrid rushed out of Tauriel's arms to take control of the barge back from Legolas. "Apologies, Prince Legolas, I don't mean to be out of place but these waters…"

Legolas nodded to Sigrid, giving her a small smile. "I do not blame you for your concern, Mistress Sigrid. These waters are known for their dangerous nature, and I do not know them as well as your family does." Sigrid let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and let Legolas rest a hand on her shoulder, since he wasn't quite sure as to how he could comfort her.

Sigrid took a deep breath, nodding to Legolas in a silent thanks for his action of comfort. She then turned her eyes back to Tauriel. "Does this mean that you have come to take us away from the Master?"

Tauriel let out a quiet laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind Sigrid's ear with a great amount of familiarity. "You are perceptive, I must admit. Does your father share this trait with you? Or was it perhaps your mother who gifted it to you?"

It was another deep breath before Sigrid sniffled out a small laugh. "It was both, Mistress Elf. My sister, Tilda, she actually uses this talent far better than I do. Though, yes, both my mother and my father shared this talent with myself, my brother, and Tilda." She glanced up at Tauriel. "Do you have any siblings?"

Legolas watched Tauriel school her expression very carefully before she replied to Sigrid. "No, I don't." Tauriel tapped the underside of Sigrid's chin gently. "I believe it would be better if we continued this conversation with your's though." Sigrid nodded and took another deep breath before refocusing on steering the barge.

* * *

"Sigrid!" The barge had barely been tied to the dock for a few seconds when the trio heard a young man call for the bargeman. Sigrid's head turned faster than both Legolas's and Tauriel's, her concern more immediate than those of her passengers. "He's at the house again. Alfrid's demanding to speak with you and he's holding Tilda until you get back."

Tauriel and Legolas watched as Sigrid set her shoulders and held her head up high before turned back to them. "If you'll excuse me, Master and Mistress Elf, I believe my presence is required elsewhere." She raised an eyebrow at them when they drew their hoods over their heads, covering their ears. "Is there something you wish to inform me?"

"We came to find you and your siblings, Mistress Bargeman," Legolas said, catching the small break in Sigrid's act at his words. "It would be for the best if we were to accompany you to your home."

Sigrid nodded, squaring her shoulders again. "Then you've done the majority of your job. This is my brother, Bain," she said, resting a hand on the young man's shoulder. He nodded to them, his hesitancy still apparent though he tried to match his sister's act. "Come on, then." The two siblings began into Laketown, weaving through the people and navigating the 'streets' with the ease of two people who had been born and raised on the rickety walkways.

They only stopped when they reached almost to the opposite side of where they had come in, the house like any of the others surrounding it. From inside, Legolas and Tauriel could hear a rather nasty-sounding man taunting someone - presumably Tilda, given what Bain had said earlier. "Sigrid," Bain said, making the two Elves look back at the young bargeman.

Her shoulders were still squared, but the look of determination had faded some as uncertainty had undoubtedly crawled its way into Sigrid's brain. "You will be braver than this Alfrid for going to him. He did not do so - he took the coward's route," Tauriel said in a comforting manner, making Sigrid nod once before ascending the stairs.

"Alfrid," Sigrid said, standing in the doorway of her own home. The nasty voice Tauriel and Legolas had heard earlier stopped, presumably at having been called out by Sigrid. "I understand you wish to speak with me." Bain had to suppress a snort when his sister said 'wish'. The two Elves remembered quite well the way in which the young man had said of Alfrid 'demanding' to speak with Sigrid.

It was no small deed for Tauriel and Legolas to suppress their disgust when they first saw Alfrid, their similar upbringing providing them a great amount of fallback in keeping their expressions neutral. "That's right," Alfrid said, his voice grating against the Elves' nerves.

What was the most disturbing sight for them was the small girl Alfrid was holding. She looked to be no younger than nine years old at least. Confident as to what the proper course of action was, Tauriel and Legolas took a step forwards, bringing them to Alfrid's attention. "Tilda, are you hurt?" Sigrid's voice was quiet and full of danger, something that made both of the Elves very proud for an unknown reason.

The young girl, Tilda, shook her head, her head held high despite the arm currently wrapped around her neck. But she couldn't hold back her exclamation of pain when Alfrid whipped around to change arms, the quartet at the doorway tensing almost immediately at the sound Tilda made. " _I'm_  the only one here you should be speaking to,  _Bargeman_." Alfrid tightened his arm around Tilda's neck, staring at Sigrid.

Sigrid lifted her chin. "I see no reason to speak to you since you seem to be threatening my sister," she said, returning Alfrid's stare coldly. Her hands remained by her sides, but Legolas and Tauriel could see that, at the first sign of any danger, Sigrid was prepared to get her sister out of harm's way as fast as possible. "Need I remind you, you are trespassing on my property, Alfrid. If I remember correctly, the Master gave you express orders never to come here without a message from him."

Alfrid sneered at Sigrid, making Tauriel finger the dagger up her sleeve. "The Master wishes to speak with you. Apparently, it has something to do with the Elf King of Kirkwood and underpayment or something of that kind." Having said what he had come to say, Alfrid released Tilda by throwing her in the direction of the only table in the small, wooden building. Bain rushed forward in an attempt to help his sister regain her bearings before she rammed into the table, Alfrid slamming his shoulder into the young man's as they passed one another. "I expect you've considered my offer?" He turned back towards Sigrid slightly as he spoke, the sliminess of his tone making a chill run up Tauriel and Legolas's backs.

This time it was Sigrid's turn to sneer at Alfrid. "Never in my life will I ever consider your offer. It disgusts me beyond belief," she said, her stare just as cold and her voice no less resolute than her posture suggested. Alfrid sniffed his nose up at her before actually leaving the house, but not before giving disdainful looks to Tauriel and Legolas.

Once Alfrid was completely out of sight, Sigrid rushed into the house towards her sister, the bargeman's hands, holding Tilda's face while her eyes checked for any signs of an injury. "I'm fine, Sig, I promise. My throat hurts a little, but it'll be gone before any of us know it," Tilda said placatingly, Sigrid looking as if she was only moments away from giving her sister a pat-down to ensure Tilda's safety.

Sigrid nodded to herself once she was satisfied that Tilda was telling the truth and not underplaying any injuries that she may or may not have gotten. As an afterthought, she turned toward Legolas and Tauriel. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she told them, wrapping arm around Tilda's shoulders protectively. "Most days we can get by without a visit from the Master or one of his cronies like Alfrid."

Legolas and Tauriel looked at each other again before they turned to Sigrid with grave expressions. "I think it's time we inform the Master of Laketown of our arrival," Legolas said, his tone implying that this conversation was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, readers of this fanfiction, it's time for your chapterly edition of "Elvish Translations". Today we have:
> 
> mellon - friend
> 
> Anno dulu enni! - Help me!
> 
> mell dess - dear young woman


	7. The Master is a Dick

Sigrid wasn't exactly sure how it was she felt about the two Elves currently leading her, Tilda, and Bain towards the Master's house. True, they said they had come in order to take them away from under the Master's thumb, but Sigrid wasn't certain that that was their only mission.

It wasn't as if Elves were coming and going from Laketown everyday, and Sigrid was certain that Legolas and the woman intended on leaving before the day was through.

When they arrived at the Master's house before Alfrid did, the greasy man still sulking from his encounter with Sigrid, the bargeman did not bother to hold back a smug grin. Legolas and the woman had been speaking on the way, and they had decided that it would be best for Sigrid to enter first, alone, before the rest of them followed suit. The two Elves would be the last ones to enter. Once she entered the Master's state room, she began to understand why.

"Master Bargeman," the Master said, hardly batting an eye at Sigrid's unannounced entrance. "It's good to see that you got my message. Alfrid does try his best, you know." He immediately blanched at the sight of the two Elves, no doubt recognising Legolas as some relation to the Elvenking. Sigrid was impressed at how they managed to stay intimidating despite the two children at their sides. "Prince Legolas," the Master said weakly, attempting to regain some of his dignity.

Legolas and the woman kept their heads high, clearly pleased at the reaction they elicited from the Master. "We've come to take these children back to Mirkwood with us." If the Master noticed the way Bain and Tilda's eyes widened, he made no gesture to imply that he had. "You should be receiving a letter soon from King Thranduil in regards to how you treat your people," Legolas said, his face providing only the barest hint of his intense dislike for the man practically cowering before him.

The Master nodded, the motion more like he was jerking his head up and down. "Prince Legolas, if I may suggest something," Sigrid said, looking towards the Elven Prince. "Laketown would be without a bargeman if we return with you to Mirkwood. It would be no trouble for me to continue my duties as bargeman, even while living in Mirkwood." Legolas considered this for a moment, turning to the woman by his side as if he could read her opinion from her face, before turning back to Sigrid and nodding.

"If that is all," Legolas said, only to pause moments later. "And Master?" The man's head jerked up from where he had begun to look down at the bottle of brandy in front of him. "Be rest assured that my father is paying you fairly for  _your_  work. Your only duty from there is to ensure that the money is distributed fairly between your people." Legolas led the way out of the Master's state room then, Sigrid being the last to leave.

She couldn't say she wasn't satisfied with the way the Master seemed to slump into his chair once the two Elves were out of his sight.

* * *

"Live in Mirkwood? Like with the Elves?" Tilda hadn't stopped asking those two questions since the five of them had returned to the children's home, the two Elves leaving the trio to pack their things for the journey back to Mirkwood on Sigrid's barge. "D'you think they'll all have hair as pretty as the prince's and the lady's? Will they be nice? What d'you think they'll think of us?"

If Sigrid was being completely honest, this entire affair seemed far too simple. Two Elves, one of them the  _Prince of Mirkwood_ , strolling into Laketown,  _on her barge_ , looking for her and her siblings only to take them back to Mirkwood with them because their  _da_  was worried. Not that Sigrid didn't think that their da wasn't worried about them. It was the fact that the Prince of Mirkwood had been sent with, if Sigrid was hearing right, a captain of the king's guard to retrieve them.

"I can't say I think anything about how the Elves think or act," Sigrid said, forcing herself to stop looking out the window where the Elves were standing guard. "You two still packing?" Both Tilda and Bain made vague noises of affirmation, leaving Sigrid to stare down at the pack in front of her. She'd packed everything of necessity and import to her family, and it was still barely enough for her to feel it on her back. "I'm gonna go talk to the Elves." Her siblings hummed in acknowledgement, making Sigrid smile fondly before walking out the door to face the Elves on her doorstep.

At that point, Sigrid took a moment remember that Elves had better hearing than mortals because, as soon as she walked out the door, Legolas and the woman were looking at her expectantly. She stopped just outside the door, a bit taken aback because she was being stared at by two Elves before she managed to compose herself. "Why're you actually here?"

Legolas and the woman - was her name Tauriel? Sigrid thought she heard the prince call her that once on their way back - looked at her again, their expressions now confused. "To bring you and your siblings with us to Mirkwood," Legolas said, and Sigrid shook her head.

Tauriel sighed, taking a step towards Sigrid. "King Thranduil has heard of the Master's rule over you and the rest of your family since your father came to Mirkwood. It is only now that your father has revealed your existence to us because of his fear that you all would suffer in Mirkwood, though King Thranduil has made it clear that he does not believe in physical punishment as the Master does."

Sigrid snorted, apparently alarming the Elves at that. "That sounds exactly like something that Da would do." She looked back up at Tauriel and Legolas. "Who got him to talk about us?" Clearly she was doing better than either of the Elves had thought in terms of her perceptiveness if the looks on their faces were anything to go by. "Da hasn't said anything about us in the entire time he's been in Mirkwood and the moment he does, King Thranduil sends his son, the Prince of Mirkwood, and a captain of the king's guard to get us. Someone's obviously gotten far enough past his boundaries if you know about us."

"King Thranduil, obviously," Tilda said from the doorway, making the trio just outside turn to look at her in surprise. "Why else would he send people who're so important, Sig?" Sigrid looked at Tauriel and Legolas, waiting for either a confirmation or a denial. When nothing but silence followed Tilda's statement, Sigrid decided that her sister was right. "I don't think anyone but the king could've gotten Da to talk anyway."

Bain's head appeared above Tilda's in the doorway, breaking the beginnings of the uncomfortable silence. "I'm done." He held his pack up. "Does this mean we're going now?"

* * *

Needless to say, the barge ride back to Mirkwood was not the most pleasant.

It got worse when Tauriel and Legolas realized - nearly simultaneously - that neither of them had planned for a possible spider attack.

Of course, that was when the spiders actually attacked. So, they figured they were allowed some leeway when they immediately went on alert, their instincts kicking to life at the first sign of danger. Their surprise to find Sigrid and Bain doing their best to fend off as many spiders as they could while keeping Tilda safe was only natural given how none of the children had access to any sort of weaponry training, considering the Master's prejudice against them.

It was only after all of the spiders that were in that pack were dead that either Legolas or Tauriel realized that Dragonslayer had, no doubt, made some sort of an effort to ensure that his children were protected in the event of his death or his absence for any reason, whether it be the Master's doing or something else.

"If you would like," Tauriel began, once the party had begun to move forward once more. "I would not be averse to teaching you archery, should any of you desire to learn such a thing as that. It would also not be impossible for us to find a master swordsman willing to teach young Master Bain the art of swordsmanship, given his blossoming skills with a blade," she added, giving Legolas a pointed look. The Prince gave a resigned sigh, fully aware of Tauriel's attempts to wrangle his father into the children's lives.

Sigrid and Bain exchanged looks, each seeming to understand what it was that Tauriel was attempting to prod the Prince into saying. Tilda seemed to understand as well, but it could not be said that subtlety was her strong suit. "Why don't you just ask King Thranduil if he'd like to teach them how to use a sword? I don't think he'd say no, especially after all of the trouble he went through to send you two to come get us and not tell Da about it." The youngest of Dragonslayer's children looked around at the four others, a confused look on her face as a response to the sudden silence. "What? Why're you all looking at me like that?"

Legolas was the one to save Tilda from the disbelieving looks she was receiving. "My father is not known to be the most forthcoming of our people, even with our private natures taken into account," he began, stooping down to Tilda's eye level. "It would be rude of us to assume that he would find pleasure in such an activity as teaching your siblings how to use a sword or that he would not find it unbecoming of a king to do so."

Tilda frowned, scrunching up her nose. "Well, that sounds silly," she said, matter-of-factly. "I mean, he's already gone through all of the trouble of getting us out of Laketown and into Mirkwood. Why would he think it unbecoming to teach them how to use a sword?"

Legolas and Tauriel took a moment to exchange impressed looks. They had not anticipated on Tilda considering things so straightforwardly, or on any of Dragonslayer's children doing so where Thranduil was involved. "Tilda, I'll tell you what you can do," Tauriel began, taking Legolas's place and squatting down to Tilda's eye level. "You can ask King Thranduil if he'd like to teach Sigrid and Bain swordplay, as I don't think he'd take it too well from either myself or Prince Legolas."

Her eyes went wide as Tauriel continued talking, and Legolas noticed the faintly amused and affectionate looks on Sigrid and Bain's faces. "But, what if I insult him? I don't think Da would be too happy if I insulted the Elf King my first day meeting him. Or Sigrid or Bain," Tilda added, almost as an afterthought. "I can't ask him to teach Sigrid and Bain how to use a sword if I've insulted him!"

Tauriel held up a hand in an attempt to calm Tilda. "When you meet King Thranduil, so that you don't insult him, say to him, ' _Glass nín le/gen govaded_ '," Tauriel said, her voice level and steady. "Do you know what that means?" Tilda shook her head. "It means 'Pleasure meeting you' in the Elf tongue. Can you say it?"

"Glass nin le/gan govadad," Tilda said, and Tauriel and Legolas exchanged glances once again. It wasn't exactly correct, but it was close enough for someone who'd never spoken any kind of Elvish before. "Did I do it right?"

Sigrid and Bain nodded before either Tauriel or Legolas could say anything. "C'mon, Tilda. I think we'd ought to let Tauriel and Prince Legolas lead us into Mirkwood proper. It's not safe out here, remember?" Tilda nodded, moving to Sigrid's side to take her sister's hand. Sigrid then looked back up at Legolas and Tauriel. "Lead on."

Legolas paused for a moment, considering something. "Perhaps it would be best if I went back first," he began, holding up a hand to stop any arguments that may have followed. "I do not know how the guards at the gate will react to such a company, even lead by myself and Tauriel. I will go back to tell them of your approach and to keep your father from seeing you before we have enough time to get you all settled." Legolas lowered his voice then, gesturing for Tauriel to listen. "I think I will keep Dragonslayer occupied in the wine cellar. Once the children are settled, bring them down."

Tauriel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Dragonslayer's look of surprise should be enough reward for all of us.  _Harthon cened le ennas_ ,  _Caun_ Legolas." Legolas nodded to her.

" _Harthon cened le ennas, Hest_  Tauriel," he replied before turning back to the children. "I promise that you are all in good hands. I will see you soon, and you will see your father again." The trio nodded, each quietly wondering why this farewell seemed so solemn if they were going to see Legolas again relatively soon.

With that, Legolas turned back to the path and, deciding that a bit of showing off was in order, took the tree route back to the gates of his father's kingdom. Sigrid was the first one of the children to close her mouth, as all three of them had dropped their jaws in amazement. "Prince Legolas was just showing off, wasn't he?" Tauriel nodded, and began ushering the children back along the ground path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Glass nín le/gen govaded - It is my joy to meet you
> 
> Harthon cened le ennas - I hope to see you there
> 
> Cuan - Prince
> 
> Hest - Captain


	8. Lots of Hair Braiding

Had anyone asked Thranduil if he was nervous about the success of Legolas and Tauriel's mission, he would have told them no. He had long ago learned how to control his emotions and perfected the mask which he used to protect himself.

It was with a distracted air that Thranduil went through the motions of his day, leading to his current place in his study. Dragonslayer was standing to the side of the room, waiting for Thranduil to order him to do something. Only when he cleared his throat did Thranduil realize that the Man was still standing where he had stopped when he had followed the Elvenking into the study at least ten minutes previously. "Dragonslayer, you are not needed for anything in the immediate future. Take a break from standing there," Thranduil told the Man, standing and moving about the room to file something or another away.

"Yes,  _hîr nín_ ," Dragonslayer said with a low bow before turning to leave the room.

Thranduil, meanwhile, was frozen in place, not sure he had heard exactly what it was his brain was telling him that he had. "What?"

Dragonslayer stopped, turning back to look at Thranduil. "Did I say it wrong?" Judging from the look on Dragonslayer's face, the Man thought that the Elvenking was about to run him through for having possibly mispronounced an Elvish phrase.

Said Elvenking took a step towards Dragonslayer, truly worrying the Man. "Where did you learn that?"

"I, uh," Dragonslayer started, clearing his throat. "I asked Tauriel to teach me some Elvish phrases. I've already been here for a few months. I figured that since I'm going to be here for a decent amount of time, it would be polite if I could at least learn some of the language so that you didn't have to use the common tongue when your native language fits your - you much better."

Thranduil didn't stop the slow smirk that crossed his face when Dragonslayer's unspoken words were discovered. "The common tongue does not fit my what, if I am not too bold in asking?" He did not mean to shove the Man back into his shell, but he did delight in the utter embarrassment written across Dragonslayer's face.

The Man cleared his throat again, uncomfortable by his slip up from thought to spoken words. "It does not fit your tongue, my lord," Dragonslayer said quietly, as if he could say it low enough that perhaps Thranduil, even with his enhanced hearing, would not hear his words.

After a few moments of letting Dragonslayer fidget, Thranduil hummed. "Very well. You may continue on your way." If there was a small bounce in the Elvenking's step as he returned to his desk, well, there was no one in the room to bear witness to it.

* * *

Legolas probably should not have been enjoying the look of utter mortification on Dragonslayer's face as much as he currently was, if at all. "I cannot believe I just told him that," the Man said, silently bemoaning his fate as a decapitated head on a pike as a symbol to Orcs that they should remain outside of Mirkwood's borders.

The Prince clapped a hand onto Dragonslayer's shoulder, placing a goblet of wine in front of the Man as he sat down catty-corner to the servant. "I do not see why you fret so, my friend. After all, it is not as if you are the first among many who have commented on my father's appearance. Although, I must commend you on doing so while I have not been in the room. Had I been there, I suspect that my father may have continued the conversation further, to both your humiliation and mine," Legolas added, staring off briefly as a montage of every other time Thranduil had been commented on his appearance in his son's presence flashed before Legolas's eyes. Once it had finished, Legolas shuddered some before downing his own goblet of wine.

He was so entirely preoccupied by his own thoughts that he managed to miss how Dragonslayer brought his head up off of his arms, resting on the table, to look at Legolas curiously. "I'm beginning to think that there is more to this story than you are letting on, my lord," Dragonslayer said, the beginnings of an amused lilt in his voice.

Dragonslayer could in no way have predicted the way that Legolas's face drained of its color and the Prince's expression changed to something akin to absolute horror. "That's not-" Legolas stopped, color slowly returning to his face when he saw something over Dragonslayer's shoulder. "That is completely irrelevant," the Prince said, turning his attention back to Dragonslayer. "Besides, I believe there is something far more interesting to be discussed at this time." Legolas nodded to whatever it was behind Dragonslayer, causing the Man to turned around to look.

Tauriel smiled when she saw the look of shock on Dragonslayer's face, not to mention the complete joy on his children's faces when she let them run towards their father. A small chorus of "Da!" rang out in the small room as Dragonslayer suddenly found three pairs of arms hugging him. Tauriel and Legolas watched, from their respective places, as the small family was reunited after having been separated for months, owing to both Dragonslayer's hesitance and the Master's despicable manner.

"What-? How…how are you all here?" Dragonslayer pulled away from his children, looking them all in the eyes to confirm that they were here with him in Mirkwood.

The eldest looked back at Tauriel, a smile on her face. "Tauriel brought us, once she found us that is." Tauriel nodded to the young woman, both pleased with the results of Tauriel and Legolas's venture into Laketown. "Prince Legolas was there too, but he left ahead of us to prepare you and make sure that you weren't busy when we got here so that we could surprise you."

Dragonslayer turned his head from Tauriel to Legolas and between them with a look of gratefulness on his face. "Is your father aware of this venture,  _caun_?"

Legolas nodded. "Indeed. It was he who gave Tauriel permission to go ahead as soon as was possible. Unfortunately, that involved Tauriel waking me at an unusually early hour." Dragonslayer smiled at the misery Legolas no doubt felt. "Though, I must admit, it was surprising that your eldest there knew what to do when Tauriel and I approached her for passage to Laketown."

Sigrid smiled at her father, hugging him a little tighter. "It was all of those stories I told you about the Elves, wasn't it?" Dragonslayer pressed a kiss to Sigrid's forehead, making his daughter hum in confirmation. "I never knew that those could be useful to anything other than stories in order for the three of you to go to bed," Dragonslayer said, speaking to all three of his children at once. Sigrid and the youngest giggled, while the boy thought himself too old to giggle, though he did laugh at his father's words. Dragonslayer pulled the boy to him when he finally released Sigrid from his grasp, though she stood at her father's side. "And how it is that you have been, Bain?"

Bain smiled up at his father. "Doing my best to take care of these two while the Master breathes down our necks," he said, teasing his sisters as if there was nothing wrong with their current situation. His smile grew when Sigrid pushed his shoulder slightly, a small rebuke for his comment about having to control her.

"And which of us was it who took over Da's job?" Bain rolled his eyes dramatically, making the other three members of his family laugh. Sigrid looked at the youngest before she gestured for her sister to join them. With a grin, the young girl rushed towards the rest of her family, gripping her father's tunic tightly. "She's been missing you like nothing else," Sigrid said quietly.

Legolas and Tauriel exchanged small smiles. It was nice to see Dragonslayer and his family happy, even if they hadn't had the easiest of times recently. " _Mellyn_ ," Dragonslayer said, making the two Elves turn back to him. " _Le hannon_."

Tilda tugged on her father's shirt to get his attention. "Da, can I braid you hair?"

Dragonslayer smiled at his youngest, nodding as he did. "You know, you never have to ask, Tilda. It's not like I'll ever say no to you." Tilda smiled, climbing up onto the chair beside her father in order to get better access to Dragonslayer's hair. "This was a common sight before the Master decided to claim me as his possession," Dragonslayer said to Tauriel and Legolas.

"I must admit, it seems that the Master has not done well so far to prove himself a better person with everything I hear of his actions towards you and your family," Thranduil said, startling Dragonslayer and his family as the four of them quickly turned to look at him. Tauriel and Legolas, having heard the Elvenking arrive, nodded their greetings to Thranduil.

After a stunned moment, Dragonslayer smiled at Thranduil. " _Le hannon_ , King Thranduil." The Man looked around at his children. "Sigrid, Bain, Tilda, this is the Elvenking of Mirkwood, King Thranduil." Sigrid and Tilda curtsied awkwardly to Thranduil while Bain bowed to the Elvenking. Tilda glanced at her father for a few moments, asking him a question with her eyes. He nodded after some consideration, and Tilda's face lit up.

Before Thranduil could properly process what was happening, the small girl had her arms wrapped around his midsection in a less than comfortable, but entirely heartfelt hug. "Hello,  _winimo_ ," he said once Tilda had pried herself off of his midsection.

Tilda smiled up at Thranduil shyly, looking back at Tauriel before meeting Thranduil's eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Thranduil had seen Tauriel nod at Tilda before the young girl refocused on him. " _Glass nín le/gen govaded_ , King Thranduil," Tilda said, clearly aware of her likely misspoken words but pleased that she had at least tried. Dragonslayer furrowed his eyebrows, not exactly sure that that was the correct phrase. His eyes went wide, however, when Tilda held her hands up at Thranduil, silently requesting to be picked up. Dragonslayer cleared his throat, not wanting to offend the Elvenking with his daughter's wishes.

Thranduil held out a hand, stopping Dragonslayer from where he was going to get his youngest. "Glass  _nín le/gen govaded_ , Tilda, daughter of Dragonslayer." He picked Tilda up as she had asked, not caring what it was either Legolas or Tauriel was thinking at that moment. "How old are you, winimo?"

"Ten," Tilda said proudly, wrapping her arms around Thranduil's neck for balance. "Da thinks I'm too big to be picked up like this anymore," she said solemnly, looking down as if she was ashamed of herself for asking such a thing of Thranduil.

A gentle tap on her nose brought Tilda's eyes back up to the Elvenking. "I have no qualms against doing this, even for one who is ten years old. It has been a very long time since I have had the pleasure of interacting with any children." Tilda's eyes went wide, surprise coloring her face.

"You mean there aren't any children here?" Tilda turned her head to look at Legolas and Tauriel, her expression unchanged. "But what about Legolas and Tauriel? Don't they have any younger siblings?" Tilda's surprise only grew when the two Elves shook their heads in reply. She almost smacked Thranduil in the face with her hair with how fast she turned her head back towards him. "When was the last time you had any children here, King Thranduil?"

Thranduil smiled sadly, brushing a hair back behind Tilda's ear. "A very long time,  _winimo_ ," he said after a long moment, his eyes flickering across her face. "Come, let us not linger on these sad thoughts," Thranduil said, changing the topic of conversation. "Surely you wanted to do something with your father now that you have been reunited with him, yes?"

Tilda's face lit up as she looked at her father again. "Da! Now can I braid your hair?"

Dragonslayer laughed. "Of course you can, Tilda." He gave his youngest a knowing look, Tilda giggling some. "Though don't try to trick me into thinking that you're going to be the only person braiding hair right now." Tilda turned her head towards Sigrid, her father doing the same only moments later.

Sigrid grinned at them, unable to keep herself from doing so. "Yes, I'll braid Tilda's hair," she said, mock-exasperated. Her act was ruined by the grin firmly in place on her face. She settled down on the table behind the chair Tilda had set up behind their father. "Normal style, Tilda?"

Her sister nodded, and Tilda looked up at Thranduil again. "May I be put down now, Your Majesty?" Thranduil obliged, setting her down on the chair behind Dragonslayer so that she could reach her father's head. She smiled up at him before turning her attention to her father, scrunching her nose up in concentration. Carefully, Tilda began to part her father's hair, already having taken out the tiny leather band that held it up.

Thranduil turned his head to Legolas, raising one eyebrow slightly in a silent question. His son's eyebrows went up slightly, the question surprising Legolas but not exactly unwelcome. Legolas nodded his head, before moving to take the seat across the table from Dragonslayer. Tauriel and Dragonslayer's children watched with curiosity as Thranduil crossed the room to stand behind Legolas. In what seemed to be well-practiced motions, Thranduil unbraided Legolas's small braids, running his fingers through his son's hair to get rid of any possible knots. "Do not permit my actions to distract you from your own, winimo," Thranduil said, not looking up from where he had begun to intricately braid Legolas's hair.

So it was, Sigrid and Tilda each returning to their respective braids whilst Tauriel and Bain watched, none of them failing to realize what a strange sight they undoubtedly made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> hîr nín - my lord
> 
> caun - prince
> 
> Mellyn - friends
> 
> Le hannon - Thank you
> 
> winimo - little-one
> 
> Glass nín le/gen govaded - It is my joy to meet you


	9. Cue the Montage

Dragonslayer's children adjusted to life in Mirkwood fairly easily. Turned out that almost everyone in Mirkwood enjoyed having the children around. It may have been the fact that there had been a lack of children for several decades, if not a century or two, but everyone adjusted their routines to include the mortal children in one way or another.

Thranduil should have known that the peace would be shattered when he first got word that Thorin Oakenshield had formed a party in order to travel to the Lonely Mountain in order to reclaim both it and his throne. As it was, he shrugged it off because he believed that there was no way that they would make it so far as Mirkwood If the tales were to be believed in that Mithrandir was guiding them back to their home, then they would most certainly have to travel through his kingdom in order to reach their destination.

Of course, relatively soon after that is when Elrond  _decided not to inform Thranduil that there was a party of Dwarves headed in his direction so he should probably prepare for that in case they appeared on his doorstep in the middle of the night or something like that_. Thranduil's surprise was shared by many of his people, and the four mortals living in his kingdom, when they heard that Thorin Oakenshield and co were wandering about the forest, the forest's effects causing them to have no sense of direction.

It seemed obvious that he should send Legolas and Tauriel, allowing them to take whoever they pleased in case any spiders should attack them. (Dragonslayer had made it a point to mention how Thranduil would no longer have to worry about the spiders if he just allowed Tauriel to take whoever she wanted with her to Dol Guldur and got rid of them at their source. Thranduil said he couldn't risk it at the present time, but he would consider it.)

* * *

So,  _maybe_  Thranduil wasn't as patient with Thorin Oakenshield as he could have been, but that wasn't entirely his own fault. The Dwarf had made it incredibly difficult to be polite as Thranduil was being. The Elvenking had retreated to his own study in order to release his frustrations in a more productive manner, but none had seemed to come to Thranduil by the time Dragonslayer knocked on the study door. " _Minno_ ," Thranduil said, not paying attention to whoever it was that opened the door and stepped inside.

"I want to take them to Laketown."

Thranduil's head snapped up from where he'd been studying the floor. "Why? What good would that do you?"

Dragonslayer sighed. "Sigrid's the one who really wants to, but I said that she couldn't do it because it's too dangerous but that I'd ask you if I could."

The Elvenking stared at Dragonslayer, not quite believing his ears. "You  _want_  to go back to Laketown? With the Dwarves? Do you understand what it is that they are trying to do?"

"I do,  _aranín_ , and, though I believe that their mission will do nothing but bring death and dragonfire to the people of Laketown, I believe that they deserve a second chance," Dragonslayer said simply. Once again, Thranduil was taken aback as to how this Man, despite everything that he had been through, had refused to become callous and angry at the world as Thranduil had.

Thranduil nodded. "Very well. Do you intend on telling them that you have been lodging here for nearly a year?" Dragonslayer shook his head. "Are you taking your children with you?"

"I believe they will find some way of using it against me if I do not,  _aranín_. And I know that they will find some way to come with me, whether I want them to or not, for they worry for my well being as much as I do for theirs." Dragonslayer stood before Thranduil's scrutiny, obviously prepared the the Elvenking to deny him his request.

It was after a very long moment that Thranduil nodded. "Very well then. I will grant your request, Dragonslayer, though I am not entirely pleased by the outcome. Be wary of what may await you when you return to Laketown, though. The Master will be none too pleased to see your face again, even if I think he will barter with the Dwarves for some of the accursed gold hoarded away in that mountain." Thranduil stood a little straighter then. "I will give you no more than a week to travel, offer your children the chance to collect whatever it was that they were not able to bring with them when they first came here. Any longer than that, and I shall go searching."

Dragonslayer's expression turned thoughtful then. "Should the Dwarves wake Smaug," he began, taking full note of the way Thranduil's shoulders tensed. "We may be forced to travel to Dale and set up camp there. If I do not return within the week, or if news travels of Smaug's awakening before the week is up, come find us there with food and other necessities. If we are correct," Dragonslayer continued, and Thranduil had to force himself to ignore the fact that the Man had come so far as to refer to them as 'we' in a casual manner. "I fear that there will be many things that the people of Laketown will be without."

"Again, I say very well then, Dragonslayer. Prepare your barge and your children for the journey back to Laketown.  _Suil vain_ , Dragonslayer." The corner of Thranduil's mouth quirked up at Dragonslayer's confused look. "It means 'Fair winds', Dragonslayer. I am wishing you safe travels until you return."

Dragonslayer nodded. "I wish you good rest for the next week,  _aranín_." With another nod, Dragonslayer left Thranduil alone in his study, the Elvenking's thoughts too loud in the sudden silence.

* * *

In truth, none of what happened next surprised Thranduil.

True, letting an Orc pack freely hunt after the party of Dwarves that had just "escaped" from Thranduil's prisons was unusual, especially considering that he had just let Dragonslayer and his children go and escort the Dwarves to Laketown, and then most likely to the Lonely Mountain where it was presumed that they would wake Smaug and give him incentive to attack the surrounding areas.

But word had traveled fast about what had transpired during the Dwarves brief stay and Thranduil had to admit, Tauriel could have found herself a better potential life partner than Thorin Oakenshield's nephew. Yes, Thranduil did not have the pleasure of being formally introduced - he was a little busy trying not to antagonize Thorin Oakenshield into getting the Dwarf to give back the jewels - but there was little doubt that he was just as pigheaded as the rest of the Dwarves. Though the older one, he seemed to have a bit of common sense so far as politics and diplomacy were concerned.

Still, Thranduil made no attempt to stop Tauriel from chasing the Orc pack or from stopping Legolas from going after Tauriel. If Legolas's instincts about something larger being at play here, than he trusted them to go and investigate it. (There was a reason that he failed to mention that he was planning on going to Dale if it so happened that Smaug was awoken.)

Then Thorin and his kin were clumsy enough to actually go and  _wake Smaug up and give him incentive to attack Laketown_. Of course, by the time word reached Thranduil that Smaug had been awoken, the word was also that Smaug had been killed by a Black Arrow, supposedly by a master bowman in Laketown.

Thranduil didn't deny himself the warm feeling of pride that grew in his chest when the messenger reported that Dragonslayer was most likely the bowman. Once he was certain that there were indeed survivors of Laketown's incineration, Thranduil gathered a large portion of his army and much of his food supplies in order to travel to Dale, where Dragonslayer had said that he would take the survivors.

* * *

There was no need to fake his surprise when Elrond appeared at his study door, the Elvenking making sure that things would run properly in his absence. "Elrond," Thranduil said, stopping short at the sight of the Lord of Rivendell. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard that Smaug was awake and attacking Laketown, and I came as quickly as I could," Elrond said, noting how Thranduil was in full battle armor. "I take it you're prepared to fight Thorin Oakenshield for the mountain." Thranduil actually half-smiled at the dryness in Elrond's statement. "May I travel with you?"

That was how Elrond ended up traveling with Thranduil to Dale.

* * *

When they arrived, both were saddened to see the crumbling ruins of the once-great city that had resided beside the Lonely Mountain.

What saddened Thranduil even more was the sight of Dragonslayer being helped as he walked through Thranduil's soldiers. " _Aranín_ ," he greeted Thranduil, and, though his voice was strong, it was clear from his paled skin and the worried look on Sigrid's face that something was incredibly wrong.

Thranduil forced himself to dismount at a normal pace, walking over to the two mortals at a steady pace. It was only then that he spotted Tauriel and Legolas out of the corner of his eye - they'd apparently made good time if they had managed to follow a pack of Orcs and then return to Laketown in order to be here in Dale now. " _Mell dess_ , what happened?"

Sigrid moved aside slightly, allowing Thranduil to see the bandages that covered most of her father's right side, along his abdomen. "Smaug's fire managed to graze him. He didn't even realize he was hurt until we got here." She glanced away to look at Elrond when she realized that he was standing beside Thranduil. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"He'll have to be if he's going to lead the people of Laketown against the Dwarves," Legolas said, coming beside the small group. " _Ada_ , if I may have a word with you and Lord Elrond. Tauriel can watch Dragonslayer and Sigrid." Thranduil and Elrond followed Legolas into a semi-secluded corner. "Thorin Oakenshield has formed a blockade at the gate of Erebor. Dragonslayer has already tried to negotiate with him, in an attempt to get the gold required for the people of Laketown to restart their lives."

Elrond shook his head. "I can only imagine the opposition that he faced there. There is little doubt that the Dragon Sickness will have taken over his mind by this time." He looked from Legolas to Thranduil. "I'll leave the battle strategizing to you two, while I take care of Dragonslayer." The Mirkwood royals nodded their heads.

"I'd like to be there for that,  _aranín, caunnín, hîr nín_." The three Elves turned their heads to look at Dragonslayer, who stood at the edge of the tiny area, still supported by Sigrid. "That is, if Lord Elrond would allow me to be in your presence," Dragonslayer added, looking to Elrond as he did. The Lord of Rivendell nodded, then gestured to Thranduil. "If  _you_  will allow me there,  _aranín_."

* * *

It seemed that Thranduil was not quite over seeing burns that resulted from dragonfire as he thought he was. He determinedly ignored the vaguely concerned looks that Legolas and Elrond sent him when Elrond prepared to unwrap the hasty bandages thrown over Dragonslayer's burns, the Elvenking having taken a seat in his "throne" in the tent set up for battle preparations. The Man did not seem to notice Legolas and Elrond's concern as he already begun to take off the now-dirty bandages.

Luckily, by the time Mithrandir - the meddling old wizard - arrived, Dragonslayer was taken care of and Thranduil had enough time to recompose himself before facing whatever it was that Mithrandir had come to say. Elrond, for his part, did not seem surprised to see Mithrandir, merely amused by Thranduil's reaction.

"Have you not heard, Mithrandir, that Legolas and Tauriel have already investigated this Orc attack which you are demanding that we prepare ourselves for?" Mithrandir spun around, looking far more tired than he had been a few moments earlier. "Lord Elrond and I have already discussed this, and we have come to the conclusion that our first priority is reclaiming what it rightfully ours from within Erebor, even if it means we have to fight for it."

"That may not have to happen," a voice said from the tent's entrance, drawing the attention of all of its current occupants. Mithrandir let out an astonished "Bilbo Baggins!" at the sight of the Halfling. The furrow of Elrond's eyebrows lessened at the halfling's name, so it was apparently known to him. Thranduil raised his eyebrows at Mithrandir, signifying that he and Dragonslayer still remained ignorant of the Halfling's identity as the name meant nothing to them. (Legolas had already left to assist in other things around the campsite.)

Mithrandir's expression was much happier when he turned back to Thranduil and subsequently faced the prospect of introducing the Halfling. "King Thranduil, Dragonslayer, meet Bilbo Baggins, the burglar of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield as well as the Company's resident Hobbit."

As Thranduil returned to his throne, he said, "If I'm not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeon right from under the nose of my guards." He gave Bilbo a look that would appear to be stern, but the other three in the tent would be able to discern as vaguely impressed.

Suitably chastised, Bilbo seemed to curl in on himself slightly. "Yesh. Sorry about that." He stepped further into the tent then, apparently ready to redeem himself. "But I brought this, in the hopes that it can be used as a bargaining chip in order to prevent any fighting." Bilbo pulled something out of his pocket and placed it down on the table in front of the quartet, unwrapping the cloth when he did.

Thranduil couldn't stop himself from gasping slightly, his eyes widening at the sight of the Arkenstone. True, Thranduil held no love for the gem, but that did not mean that he was immune to its allure. Elrond and Dragonslayer both seemed to be as enraptured with its beauty as Thranduil was himself. "How did you come by this, Halfling?" It was no secret that one reason for the Dwarves barricading themselves away in Erebor was for Thorin's search of the Arkenstone. The Elves could hear him yelling for it, deep within the mountain despite their distance.

"I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure," Bilbo said, throwing his shoulders back a little in an effort to stand a little straighter. "Look, King Thranduil," he began, pulling the Elvenking's attention away from the Arkenstone. "I know that dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive, with the  _worst_  manners you can possibly imagine. But they are also brave and kind, and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can." Bilbo looked at Thranduil, anxiously awaiting the Elf's reply. Dragonslayer, Elrond, and Mithrandir did the same, knowing that the choice rested solely on Thranduil's shoulders now.

"Very well then. I will consider what you have said," Thranduil said, holding up a hand when Bilbo let out a sigh of relief. "But, should the Arkenstone not suffice as the key to our entry into Erebor, know that we will resort to war." Bilbo nodded, but Thranduil could see the relief in the Halfling's expression - it was better than he thought he would get out of the Elvenking.

Mithrandir grinned, clapping a hand onto Bilbo's shoulders. "Well done, Bilbo Baggins. If you would excuse me, I think I'll go find a suitable place for Mister Baggins to rest for the evening." He looked out from under his eyebrows at Dragonslayer. "I suggest the three of you do the same. Tomorrow will not be easy for any of us, I can guarantee that." With that, Mithrandir and Bilbo were out of the tent and, soon enough, out of sight.

Thranduil sat in his throne once again, quietly sighing as he did. "As much as I find this distasteful, Mithrandir is correct. You should find somewhere to rest yourself and your children for the night, Dragonslayer. You will need all of the energy that you can muster, after what you have gone through the past few days and in consideration of what we will face tomorrow." The Man looked as if he was going to object, but Elrond gave him a look that implied that he would look after Thranduil for the night. Dragonslayer nodded then, saying his good nights before leaving the tent.

"Mithrandir  _is_  right," Elrond said, leaning against the table in front of Thranduil's throne. "It will not be easy for any of us tomorrow if we do not rest tonight." It only took one look from Thranduil for Elrond to understand what the Elvenking's thoughts were. "Do you believe that Dragonslayer's own wounds will cause you night terrors, Thranduil?"

"It is not exactly a thought alone."

Elrond nodded, moving to get Thranduil out of his throne. "In that case, you most definitely require rest. It will assure you that you are still alive and well and that there is still more to do in this life before we move on."

"I haven't seen you in years, and that's the first thing you say to me in regards to my injuries?"

The Lord of Rivendell resisted the temptation to roll his eyes, instead choosing to send Thranduil to his own tent, reminding the Elvenking that they will have a battle to fight tomorrow, whether it be against Dwarves or Orcs or both.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Minno - Enter
> 
> aranín - my king
> 
> Suil vain - Fair winds
> 
> Mell dess - dear young woman
> 
> Ada - Father
> 
> caunnín - my prince
> 
> hîr nín - my lord


	10. Welp, It's Really Short

It wasn't entirely devastating for Thranduil to learn that Thorin would rather toss the Halfling over the side of his hand-made barricade than share his dragon-hoard of treasure with the people of Laketown and/or return Thranduil's gems back to him. The only truly hard part of the entire encounter was the knowledge that Dragonslayer was willing to go to battle with these Dwarves despite the pain he must have been experiencing.

Thranduil had heard Dain and his meager army approaching from miles away, the sight of them riding over the ridge not surprising them at all.

He had seen the hard glint in Dragonslayer's eyes as the Man prepared himself for a longer battle than he'd hoped for.

When the Orcs appeared, Thranduil was prepared to let the Dwarves be slaughtered. But then he thought of Dragonslayer, of the Man's children, of what the Man had echoed from Tauriel about the darkness being allowed to spread throughout the land.

Thranduil fought. He fought until he was allowed to breathe again - his elk, by the stars she would receive a proper burial - and he looked around himself and all he saw was death.

He forgot himself. He forgot Dragonslayer, he forgot the promises he made, he forgot the people of Laketown, Sigrid, Bain, Tilda. All he thought of was the Elvish blood that stained the snow around him and the bodies - the  _Elvish_  bodies - that laid upon it and he ordered Feren to recall his company. He had no need to fight for the mistakes of these Dwarves - he needed to keep his people safe and as far away from things as possible.

His protective nature almost got him killed.

Thranduil began to lead his soldiers out of the battle grounds, out of the ruins of Dale, his mind filled with thoughts, images, feelings, sounds, scents all having to do with the soldiers, his  _people_  that he lost. His mind was clouded and his thoughts were scattered, as were many of his kin's. When the Orcs attacked, Thranduil expected to be brought down by one weapon or another, yet he found himself unharmed and not a hair out of place.

But Dragonslayer stood in front of him, blood slowly staining the Man's jacket.

It was difficult to stop fighting once there was nothing else to fight, Thranduil realized when the aftermath of the battle was filled with silence just before the sobs began to fill the air.

Dimly he heard reports that Thorin Oakenshield and his kin had survived the battle, though they all required medical attention. The Elvenking's thoughts were on Dragonslayer, who, by now, was on his way to Elrond's tent in order to be healed.

Manners meant very little to Thranduil as he dismissed any and all messengers who attempted to catch his attention as he purposely strode towards Elrond's tent.

He had seen Dragonslayer's wounds and had very little hope in his body that the Man would survive them, though he did not go so far as to doubt Elrond's skill in the art of healing.

Thranduil merely hoped that it was enough to save Dragonslayer's life.


	11. His name is Bard

Thranduil knew that he shouldn't have been this worried, that he had one of the best elven healers in the world to assist him. But that didn't stop his heart from skipping a few beats when Dragonslayer groaned in pain and the Man's children were gathered around him. "Is Da going to die?" Tilda, still wide-eyed and innocent through whatever it was she had endured in the Master's "keeping", looked up at Thranduil, her eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears.

Tauriel shook her head, gently resting a hand on Tilda's head. "No, your da is not going to die," she said quietly, glancing up at Thranduil as she did. He inclined his head, giving her permission to tend to her beloved. It may have taken too long for him to see it, having been brought to his attention shortly after the battle's end, but Tauriel did care deeply for the young dwarf.

Elrond rested a hand on Thranduil's shoulder gently, so as not to startle the Elvenking. "He wishes to speak with you. I did not think what he has to say was meant for my ears," Elrond added, giving Thranduil a knowing look. "Do not be pained if his words are not what it is you wish to hear."

With a stilted nod, Thranduil acknowledged Elrond's words before moving to Dragonslayer's side. "Lord Elrond said you wish to speak to me," the elf said upon reaching his servant's side, looking down at the Man. "I find I must thank you before you do as your actions have saved me from facing my, admittedly very selective, mortality."

Dragonslayer smiled weakly, nodding his head. "It is my pleasure to have served under the Elvenking of Mirkwood and to discover that his shell of ice is not as thick as it is said to be," he said, looking up at Thranduil as he did.

Thranduil bowed slightly, accepting the compliment, as painful as it was for him to do so at this time. "I would have thought that one of your stature would be more deserving of someone better to serve, perhaps," Thranduil said, his voice softer this time. "I am not known for being the kindest of my race."

The Man offered a weak smile. "I can think of no one more worthy of my service, my king." He internally fought against his thoughts, as a frown quickly replaced the smile on Dragonslayer's face. " _Aranín_ , please, all I ask of you - tell me what you know."

Thranduil inclined his head, not about to deny the Man's request. "You are the descendant of Girion and your children bear his noble blood in their veins just as you do," the Elvenking said quietly, his eyes focused on a spot next to Dragonslayer's hand. He wasn't about to ignore the silent request when Dragonslayer opened his hand and held it out to Thranduil, taking the Man's hand in his own. "I have found that my anger against the Master is often well thought, given his many grievances against you and the rest of the people of Laketown. Though," Thranduil continued, his voice softening slightly. "I am pleased to learn that there is no longer a dragon residing in Erebor."

Dragonslayer smiled again, not looking at Thranduil as he did. "I believe I am in your debt for allowing me the opportunity to regain my pride, my king," the Man said, giving Thranduil's hand a small squeeze. They were both quiet, their thoughts too overwhelming for a very long moment. "Bard."

"What?" It wasn't one of Thranduil's better moments, being brought out of his thoughts by Dragonslayer speaking.

Obviously, Dragonslayer was enjoying Thranduil's moment of distraction, even as it seemed he  _was_  about to die after having defended the Elvenking. "You once asked me my name and I refused, for I had learned the power of a name long before we met. Now, I find that, if I am to survive today, it may be of use to Lord Elrond. Do not find offense with me for I told him first. After all," Dragonslayer - Bard - continued. "He will be the one healing me, will he not?"

Thranduil gaped for a moment before regaining his composure. "Indeed he will be," the Elvenking confirmed. "My talents of healing may be great, but none rival those of Lord Elrond." He cleared his throat before refocusing on Bard. "Do you wish to speak to your children?"

Bard did not even pause to consider the answer before he finished. "Most certainly," he said, and Thranduil could not fault him for the mixture of joy and sorrow on the Man's face as Bard took in the implications of what this conversation could be and what it could lead to.

With a nod and a silent wish of good luck, Thranduil left Bard's side and turned his attention to the Man's children, who were being comforted by Elrond and Legolas - though Legolas looked more terrified at the prospect of one of the children beginning to cry whilst he was watching over them. "Sigrid, Bain, Tilda," Thranduil said, making the three children turn their heads to him, as they had not yet noticed that he had left their da's side. "He wants to talk to you."

He watched as Sigrid nodded, steeling herself for the conversation to come. It suddenly occurred to Thranduil that this was not the first parent that Sigrid had had face this same situation, though, admittedly, most likely in two completely different circumstances. As she passed him, Thranduil laid a hand on Sigrid's shoulder, making her pause. "King Thranduil," Sigrid said quietly, giving a small curtsy as she did.

"Do not mourn him yet,  _mell dess_. He is not yet gone from this world," Thranduil said quietly, watching Sigrid's face as he did. She nodded, her emotions tightly locked behind whatever walls she had built up when her mother died, no doubt. Thranduil nodded in return before allowing Sigrid to continue to her father's side.

Elrond did not look at Thranduil as the King of Mirkwood joined him. "These children have grown on you," Elrond said, glancing at Thranduil out of the corner of his eye. Thranduil hummed quietly, acknowledging Elrond's words while giving no direct answer. "I will not judge you for this, Thranduil, you know that. I myself have helped raise more than one mortal in my lifetime, and I care for all of them as if they were my own children."

Thranduil let out a slightly shaky breath. "I do not fear your judgement, Lord Elrond, nor do I harbor any doubts as to your healing abilities. I believe my fears lie in how this event will affect the things to come." Elrond nodded, understanding where Thranduil's concerns were coming from. "Thorin Oakenshield had begun to show signs of Dragon Sickness," Thranduil said, forcing himself to focus on other topics.

"Indeed," Elrond said. "And his company's burglar has managed to cure the main effects, though how I am not sure. Perhaps it is his great friendship that has allowed Thorin to see past the desire for gold that consumed both his father and his grandfather." Thranduil nodded, breathing out slowly as he mulled over Elrond's words. It was with a sly look and the hope to bring a smile to his friend's face that the Lord of Rivendell posed his next question. "How long is it that you have called the eldest  _mell dess_?"

Elrond counted it as a tiny victory when a softer, more fond look crossed over Thranduil's face when he asked that. "Since the beginning of our acquaintance," the Elvenking admitted, glancing at Elrond. "Tauriel was the one to refer to her as  _mell dess_  when they first met. It has managed to remain attached to her person during their stay in Mirkwood." Elrond didn't miss how the crease on Thranduil's forehead seemed to disappear as he looked at the small, mortal family before them.

The Lord of Rivendell let a small smile cross his face before he took a deep breath. "They will want to leave while I heal him. It is not the most pleasant of things to witness, especially for one who has gone through as much as their father has," Elrond said quietly, reluctant to draw Thranduil out of his semi-content state.

Thranduil nodded, sucking in a quiet breath. "I will get them." Quietly, the Elvenking returned to Bard's side, unwilling to lead his children from their father's side. " _Chín_ ," Thranduil said, once he was close enough for them to hear him when he spoke softly. "Lord Elrond has suggested that you not be present while your father is healed." He was not surprised to see the hurt looks on the children's faces and had anticipated them. "Lord Elrond does not wish to see you hurt even more than you already have been," the Elvenking explained, resulting in looks of understanding.

"When can we see him?" Bain looked between Thranduil and Elrond, who was approaching them, anxiously.

Elrond offered the children a smile of comfort. "You three will be the first notified when I am finished and your father is no longer in danger." He looked back up at Thranduil. "Which means that you will be the second informed," Elrond said, catching the surprise on his friend's face when he spoke. "Do not think I did not know that you will want to be informed."

"I think I should find it in poor taste if my father did not wish to know when Dragonslayer was safe," Legolas said, a small smile playing on his lips. After a brief moment, he turned his attention back to the three mortal children. "If you all wish, I would be happy to have you as my company as I attend to my other duties." The children seemed to brighten at the prospect of spending the time waiting on their father with Legolas.

Thranduil placed a hand on Legolas's arm, holding his son in his place momentarily. "Bard," the Elvenking said after a moment, and Legolas had difficulty following his father's thoughts. "His name is Bard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> mell dess - dear young woman
> 
> Chín - children


	12. Alfrid is a Dick

Thranduil was reminded with a shock of how much he truly hated waiting. Legolas was with Dragonslayer's - no, Legolas was with  _Bard's_  children, letting them travel with him as he wandered through the people remaining after Smaug's attack. Pacing seemed to be the only solution that Thranduil could find to remedy his worries. He no longer had to worry about Erebor, the King Under the Mountain having been restored to his proper place and apparently no longer under the ill effects of the Dragon Sickness.

Yes, it truly was an unnerving thing to have nothing to do but to wait to hear whether the Man, known as Dragonslayer, Bargeman, and most importantly Bard who would undoubtedly become King or Lord of Dale, was going to survive his injuries or not.

He thanked the Valar and stars above when a messenger appeared, looking entirely too uncertain for it what was he was undoubtedly conveying. "My lord, it appears that the Master of Laketown is dead, however his deputy is still alive. The remaining people of Laketown have asked that he be brought to you for his trial." The messenger shifted from foot to foot, his uncertainty shining through.

Thranduil raised a curious eyebrow. "And they have not yet torn him limb from limb for his crimes against them, supposedly 'in the name of the Master'? Who stopped them from doing such a thing and informed them to bring him here?"

"I did." Thranduil turned his attention to where Sigrid had slipped into his tent behind the messenger, her head held high even as she waited for news of her father. "It was what Da would've done," she said in answer to the questioning look Thranduil sent her.

It should not have surprised him as much as it did, but Thranduil was suddenly able to see how much Sigrid had taken after her father, even in the hard times in which she and the rest of her family had been living in. Thranduil inclined his head to her, no doubt surprising the messenger sent to deliver the message to him. "You've done well, Sigrid. Bring him," Thranduil said, turning his head to the messenger. "I will see the deputy now, while the knowledge of his crimes against Laketown still festers in my memory." He noted the way Sigrid shifted on her feet as he spoke, turning his head to her when the messenger was gone. "Do not be afraid to speak your mind to me."

Sigrid cleared her throat tentatively. "I would like to be present while you determine whether or not he deserves a trial, King Thranduil." A spot of pink appeared on her cheeks, as if her request was something to be embarrassed about.

Thranduil nodded after a moment. "I see no reason as to why your request should be denied. You may stay while I question him and advise me when he speaks falsely." Sigrid beamed at Thranduil, clearly pleased that she would not be sent away to loiter where she was not of use. "Though, are you not worried for your brother and sister? And I was under the impression that you had some desire to witness more Elven healing," the king added, remembering a small tidbit from one of his healers when he had visited the tent for the wounded.

"It is true that I am fascinated by the healing ways of your people, King Thranduil, and my siblings are always a concern for me. However, I think, in my father's place and since my brother is not yet old enough to do so, I am the best representative of Laketown that our people would choose in our current situation. Undoubtedly, since he slayed the dragon, my father would be their first and best choice," Sigrid continued, the look on her face willing Thranduil to understand her reasoning.

At that moment, the messenger reappeared with two of members of Thranduil's guard with him, a dirty man held between the two of them. Thranduil lifted his head slightly, looking down at the man as best as he could. "Let him stand on his own with the knowledge that if he attempts to do any wrongdoing, I will personally remove his greasy head from his filthy shoulders." He did not fail to notice the way Sigrid had to repress a grin at his words. Moments later, Thranduil's soldiers let the man go, pushing him further into the tent. "What is your name?"

"Alfrid, sire," the man said, giving a hasty bow. Sigrid rolled her eyes at the act, something which none of the Elves present failed to notice and causing more than one to stifle a faint smile of approval from the young woman's action.

Thranduil gave a hum that sounded thoughtful to the untrained ear, resulting in all of the Elves present becoming aware of what Thranduil's first impression of Alfrid was. "And tell me,  _hû úgaun_ ," the Elvenking continued, causing the messenger and the guards' eyes to go very wide. "Why is it that you believe you should receive a trial? From my understanding, you willingly followed the word of the Master and actively advised him against helping the people of Laketown in order for him to hoard the gold I sent to him to ease the people of Laketown's way of living."

It was clear how much Sigrid was enjoying being present for this and being able to witness Alfrid finally be put into his place, though she wasn't sure why the other elves had reacted the way they had when Thranduil addressed Alfrid. "Sire," Alfrid began, and Sigrid could hear the excuses building up in his mind. She just wondered which one he would use. "I assure you, I have done no such thing."

"Oh, shove it, Alfrid," Sigrid said, not even waiting for Alfrid to begin blubbering about how he'd tried to help the people of Laketown. She'd heard it all earlier when she kept everyone from tearing the man to pieces. "Pardon me, Your Majesty," Sigrid added hastily, remembering the company she was in. Thranduil gestured for her to continue, obviously amused by Sigrid's outburst and eagerly awaiting the rest of it. "You're a coward and a lazy arse to boot. When have you ever tried to help someone out? Everyone washed ashore here and Hilda Bianca was handing out blankets. What was the first thing you did?" Alfrid flinched back when Sigrid took a step toward him, letting more than one person feel immense pleasure from his actions. "You demanded a blanket from her! My father, injured and bleeding, led us to Dale, and what did you do? You lagged behind and nearly attempted to fake an injury just to get someone to carry you all of the way here! You slimy bastard!"

Thranduil held up a hand calmly. "Sigrid," he said quietly, drawing the young woman back to herself. "Not that that was not most likely immensely therapeutic for you, I do not believe that it is an efficient way to determine whether or not this  _hû úgaun_  deserves a trial or not."

Sigrid nodded, righting herself again by standing up from where she'd been looking down at Alfrid. "Of course, King Thranduil. But, if I may, there is one more thing I believe would be beneficial before we continue here," she added, glancing at Thranduil for approval. The king nodded to her, giving her permission for whatever it was that was about to happen.

Though, perhaps it should have been expected by the king, Sigrid's fist connecting with Alfrid's nose with a  _crack!_  sound was not exactly what either the messenger or the guards were expecting when Sigrid said there was something else. "That was for treating me like I was an object to be used for your pleasure. Lay so much as a finger on me ever again and I will not hesitate to rid you of your ability to ever so much as consider such thoughts ever again. My arse is not yours to touch. Neither is my chest," Sigrid said with a hiss, seriously considering punching Alfrid again, especially if it meant breaking Alfrid's nose even more.

"Sigrid," Thranduil said once again, his voice slightly sterner than it had been before. "I do not believe breaking his nose is a reliable way to ensure that such an action never occurs again, even if it may be incredibly therapeutic, as it surely is." Sigrid turned her head to the Elvenking, nodding her head and bowing it slightly. "Though, should it be necessary in the future, I will allow it at least once more." Thranduil turned his head back to Alfrid, his gaze considerably darker now that it was placed on the Master's deputy instead of the young woman he had been offering his hospitality to for several months. "Should I hear more of these testimonies from any other person who has survived Laketown's fall, let there be no doubt that I will personally see you executed for such crimes."

Even if it were to turn out that Thranduil did not intend to follow through on his threat, Sigrid believed the Elvenking's words to be in excellent taste, if only for the look of complete and absolute horror on Alfrid's face. She watched, pleased by Alfrid's expression, as Thranduil motioned for the ex-deputy of Laketown to be taken away. It was only when the two were alone once again that Sigrid turned back to Thranduil. "That was one of the most amazing things I believe I have ever witnessed," she said, smiling at the Elvenking.

Thranduil returned the smile, even if it were smaller than the one on Sigrid's face. Quickly though, it vanished, replaced by a small frown and lines of worry across the ageless face. "What actions did that  _hû úgaun_  see 'proper' to do to you,  _mell dess_?"

Sigrid shook her head, following the Elvenking's line of thought quite clearly. "He never laid a finger on bare skin, though I can imagine how much he truly desired to. That  _hû úgaun_ , as you call him, only attempted other things which would not land him in trouble with the Master, such as grab at my chest or my rear. I made it clear with every one of his attempts that, were he to attempt anything else, or even that again, I would see to it that he were dragged down into the deepest pits of Hell with my compliments."

"I believe I must confess my impression with your words,  _mell dess_ ," Thranduil said, a slow smile growing on his face. "Truly, I find myself cursed should I ever discover that I have managed to bring about your wrath, no matter whether it be well-deserved or not." Sigrid smiled shyly, pleased that she was yet to be rebuked for her actions and the small amount of praise which Thranduil had just gifted to her.

Her smile faded some as she considered something which had now been four times mentioned in their conversation, both with and without Alfrid's presence. " _Aranín_ , what does  _hû úgaun_  mean? I would not ask, but the messenger and the guards all seemed very surprised when you called Alfrid not by his name but  _hû úgaun_ ," Sigrid said, her unfiltered curiosity shining though her anger at Alfrid.

The Elvenking smiled again, glad for Sigrid's question as it allowed them to change topics slightly. " _Hû úgaun_  means, most closely, 'cowardly dog' in the common tongue," Thranduil said, watching understanding slowly cross over Sigrid's face.

When she fully understand what had just occurred, Sigrid grinned cheekily at the Elvenking. "Did you insult him because of the horrid account I gave to you of him?" Thranduil put on his most faux innocent expression, looking at Sigrid with feigned surprise.

"Why, whatever could give you that idea,  _mell dess_?" Sigrid gave Thranduil a dry look, the effect slightly countered by the grin that still lit up her face. "Yours was not the first testimony I have heard in regards to that man's behavior. You forget, Legolas and Tauriel went to Laketown with you to retrieve your siblings."

Sigrid let out a very undignified snort. "That incident was perhaps one of the best encounters with him I've ever had, if only because he could not stop gaping at them." She grinned up at Thranduil again, seeming to regain her composure. "I do not think I have ever properly offered you my thanks for allowing them to come and get us, King Thranduil," Sigrid suddenly said, her voice solemn.

Thranduil nodded to Sigrid, quietly accepting her thanks. "Though, I believe you are accustomed to expressing your thanks in more ways than one, if your sister's actions are to be believed." Sigrid smiled after a moment, rushing forward when Thranduil opened his arms to her. "It pleases me to see you as at ease as is possible in this time,  _mell dess_." He brought his arms around her, not as tightly as he had seen Bard hug his children but still enough for Sigrid to know that Thranduil was hugging her back.

"There is something I've often wondered,  _aranín._  Why did you allow Legolas and Tauriel to come and get us from Laketown?" Sigrid pulled away from Thranduil, looking up at him curiously.

"I must admit, it is something I too have wondered," Thranduil confessed, gesturing for Sigrid to pull up a chair and sit beside him. "Though, I may have more insight now than I did when I first sent them to Laketown those many months ago. This battle has...wounded me, in a way. It devastates me to see any kind of life lost, Orcs notwithstanding. And though the deaths of Men troubles me greatly, it is with the absence of every Elvish life that I mourn deeply." Thranduil looked back at Sigrid from where he had been staring at a blank wall of his tent. "I cannot bear the thought of being without family when family is so important to life and its enjoyment. When I heard that your father had you three children to be worrying about," he said, his eyes flicking across Sigrid's face. "I could not allow you to remain in Laketown without him."

"And here I was, thinking that it was only for my charming personality that the Elvenking of Mirkwood sent his son and a captain of his guard to Laketown to retrieve my children for me," Bard said from the tent's opening, Elrond supporting him as the Man was not yet well enough to walk on his own.

Sigrid's face lit up when she heard her father's voice. "Da!" She rushed to stand from the chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. Once she was certain that it would not clatter to the floor because of her efforts, she ran over to her father, wrapping her arms around him carefully, keeping in mind Bard's wounds.

Bard smiled, wrapping his free arm around Sigrid. "Hello, darling," he said into Sigrid's hair, pulling her close to him. Thranduil looked away from the reunited father and daughter, focusing more on standing and crossing his tent for wine. " _Aranín_ ," Bard said, nodding his head to the king respectfully.

Thranduil nodded his head in return, turning a curious eye to Elrond once he had. "It seems I have a very impatient patient," Elrond said by way of an explanation. "Once he heard that it was safe for him to move, he asked that he be brought to his children, or to you. I had assumed that Legolas had returned with them to your tent by now."

"Bain and Tilda were rather insistent that we explored the entirety of the ruins before we returned," Legolas explained, following Bain and Tilda into the tent. He continued to his father's side as Bain and Tilda rushed to hug Bard. "I had not expected Dragonslayer to be able to move so quickly after such a devastating wound. Though I am pleased to see him living, I would think that bed rest would be the best course of action following such an injury," Legolas said to Thranduil, his voice low enough so that only his father and Elrond could possibly hear him.

"Nor had I," Thranduil replied, watching Bard out of the corner of his eye. He had not doubt that Elrond would tend to any possible injuries should Bard begin to show any signs of pain. Still, it did not stop him from worrying that something could happen. "I have suspicions that Bard appealed to Elrond's parental side in order to convince him to allow Bard to even come here to visit his children."

It became apparent to them how involved in their conversation they had been because they had failed to realize that Elrond and Bard were now standing behind them. "I do not know if I am flattered at having reached the point where they will talk about me behind my back or offended that they are doing it to my face, my lord," Bard commented, once Thranduil and Legolas had begun to turn to them. Judging from the amused look on Elrond's face, he agreed with the Man, much to Thranduil and Legolas's shared chagrin.

Legolas spoke up for himself and his father before Thranduil had the chance to, his father's prickly nature not exactly the best to save face. "Dra-," he began before he caught the look in Bard's eyes. "Bard," Legolas tried again, and Bard seemed to straighten a bit at that. "We were merely concerned about your wellbeing. It is of no offense to the Lord Elrond's skill in the art of healing, but a worry as to the health of a friend."

Bard nodded, a sincere smile on his face as his children quickly wrapped themselves around his middle once again. "Thank you, Prince Legolas. I am honored to call you friend." Legolas nodded, thanking Bard for the sentiment.

"If Lord Elrond would permit, I think it would be pleasing for you to regale us with the tale of how you snuck the Dwarves into Laketown, managed to avoid being arrested by the Master, kill Smaug, and then lead your people to Dale," Thranduil said, quickly changing the topic of conversation with a quick glance in the directions of Elrond and Legolas. By the looks of things, it seemed as though Thranduil was not the only one to wonder such things, though he had no doubt that Bard's children already knew the tale.

The Man met the Elvenking's eyes with a twinkle, amused by Thranduil's - apparently - successful attempt to change topics. "It is a long tale, and better suited to somewhere where I might perhaps be seated," Bard replied, leading his company to realize exactly how worn out the Man looked.

"Of course," Elrond said, beginning to lead the group out of Thranduil's tent. "I believe we would all like to be comfortable whilst you explain these feats to us." He then gave Bard a very pointed look, which the Man promptly looked more sheepish for. "And Dragonslayer here should be forced to rest, else his body find some other way to inform him of its displeasure."

Thranduil sympathized with Bard at that moment - he too had been Elrond's patient at one point and had endured the same concern as to his body's limits, mostly regarding pushing them too far before he was ready. "Very well," the Elvenking said, saving Bard from what was sure to be a very awkward silence. "Let us to the Lord Elrond's tent, then." He gave Elrond a slight smirk. "After all, it is just as well equipped at the healing tents, and offers more privacy for Bard's comfort than the healing tents provide."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Hû úgaun - cowardly dog


	13. How Bard Did It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback time.

_Approximately a week earlier…_

Upon Bard's return to his quarters, he was not surprised to find himself nearly attacked with the way his children began questioning him, their concerns focused on the Dwarven party and  _please, Da, they need our help!_

Bard held up a hand, and his children slowly quieted down. Sigrid was the first to go silent, her desire to help having been what sent her father to the Elvenking in the first place. Bain and Tilda followed shortly after, and the four of them found themselves standing in the middle of the room in silence. "King Thranduil will allow us to help them. But," he continued, aware of the pleased expressions of his children's faces. "We have only a week to complete our task."

Tilda figured out what Bard was concerned about first. "You think that the Dwarves are going to wake the dragon in the mountain." Bard nodded, confirming his children's fears.

"Then we plan for it," Sigrid said, straightening her back. "If the Dragon awakes, then we will have to fight it somehow. Should Laketown be destroyed, there needs to be somewhere we can take everyone so that they'll be able to continue with their lives." She stopped when she realized Bard was looking at her strangely. "What is it?"

Bard shook his head. "I've forgotten how much it is you've had to grow up since I have been here. King Thranduil and I have made a plan as to what will happen should the Dragon wake. We will take the survivors of Laketown to Dale. There we will make camp and wait for King Thranduil to arrive."

"What if King Thranduil doesn't come?" Bain looked up at his father, voicing the question laying in Tilda and Sigrid's minds as well.

The former bargeman pulled his children into a tight hug. "He'll have to come."

* * *

There were surprisingly few questions asked as the small family made their way out to the docks where Bard's barge waited for them. Only words of caution were spoken, warnings of Orcs having made their way into Mirkwood, having followed the company of Dwarves that Bard and his family were about to give transport to Laketown.

The only sign they saw of the battle were the arrow-laden barrels that the Dwarves (and Halfling) rode down the river in. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda made to protest when Bard grabbed his bow and quiver (Elven-made, though Bard doubted that the Dwarves would notice), but their words stuck in their throats when Bard pointed out that the Dwarves would be suspicious if Bard simply offered passage to Laketown.

After ensuring that his children would stay on the barge, Bard made his way to where he knew the river led, unsurprised to find the company of Dwarves soaking wet and almost arguing with themselves about how it was they were supposed to get to the Lonely Mountain. There was a slight hesitation as he raised his bow to the Dwarves, none of them protected by the heavy outerwear that Bard had seen the Elves carrying away.

It disappeared quickly when he realized that the Dwarves would likely kill him if he did not hold a weapon to them. One by one, they began to realize that he was there. The balding one raised a fallen branch as a weapon, moving to protect one of his kin, and Bard fired a shot dead in the middle of the branch. On the other side, the one with the injured leg raised a stone to throw at him, which Bard quickly shot out of the young Dwarf's hand.

"Do it again, and you're dead," he said, pointing his bow at a random Dwarf, one who seemed just as ready to fight them as the rest of them. He knew he wasn't making a fantastic first impression, but he doubted he could get them to obtain passage from them easily. So, this was his plan.

A voice to his left made Bard change his aim. "Um, excuse me?" The old Dwarf, his hair white and showing his age, began to approach him. "But, um, you're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken." The Dwarf cleared his throat before continuing, Bard's bow nocked and aimed at his person. "That barge over there - it would be available for hire, by any chance?"

Oh, Bard was so good at this.

He furrowed his eyebrows, changing his expression from hostile to extremely confused and bringing his bow down, though he remained on alert. Bard then turned his attention to the barrels, starting to pull one out of the water. The old Dwarf gestured for some of his kin to start doing to same, most likely hoping to get on Bard's good side so that he would allow them passage. Not that Bard needed much convincing - he'd already convinced the Elvenking of Mirkwood, so a company of Dwarves was nothing. He just needed to remember to play them properly.

The next time Bard spoke, it was when they had all begun to bring the barrels in the barge's direction. "What makes you think I would help you?" It was difficult work, and Bard's muscles were none to pleased to be enduring this type of hard labor again. But, if Bard was right, Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda's presence on the barge would surprise the Dwarves, which was what the Man was counting on.

Again, it was the old Dwarf who spoke to Bard. "Those boots have seen better days, as has that coat." Bard congratulated himself some internally. He had pulled his old clothes out from where he had stored them away once Thranduil had ordered new clothes made for him. Wearing his rattier, more worn clothes from Laketown helped sell his story to the Dwarves. "And no doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed," the Dwarf added. "How many dearies?"

Bard had to bite down a smile as the barge came into view, Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda all sitting on it as innocently as could be. "A boy and two girls," he replied, continuing over the slight hill, amused when he heard the shuffling of feet stop behind him. No doubt that the Dwarves had seen his children just as Bard had replied.

"And your wife, I can imagine - she's just a beauty."

It took all of Bard's willpower to continue down to the barge. He could tell by the change in his children's faces that they had seen his face drop, the mention of his wife still painful after all of this time. "Aye," Bard began curtly. "She was."

He didn't have to turn around to see the old Dwarf begin to feel sad for him, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other so that he could reach his barge and his children, trusting that the Dwarves were still in tow behind him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, come on. Enough with the niceties," the balding Dwarf interrupted, clearly frustrated with the old Dwarf's attempts to appeal to Bard's good side.

Bard turned to look at him, playing the fool yet again. "What's your hurry?"

"What's it to you?" The balding Dwarf replied, doing the exact opposite of the old Dwarf in that he was doing everything in his power to get onto Bard's bad side.

A slight smile crossed Bard's face. "I would like to know who you are, and what you are doing in these lands." Knowing the answer already just made the Dwarves' hesitation all the more amusing to Bard.

Yet again, it was the old Dwarf who came to the company's rescue. "We are simple merchants, from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills."

An oddly specific lie, one that Bard felt he would notice even if he did not know the truth. "Merchants, you say?" He had a feeling he would have to call the Dwarves out plainly if he should hope to earn the truth from them. An unnecessary measure, but still amusing.

"We need food, supplies, weapons," Thorin Oakenshield said before Bard could say anything else. "Can you help us?"

"I know where these barrels came from."

"What of it?" Clearly, Thorin Oakenshield was not as good of a liar as he thought he was.

"I don't know what business you had with the Elves -" Bard had to internally congratulate himself again, because he was doing a fantastic job of acting "- but I don't think it ended well." And  _there_  was the vaguely threatening look he'd been waiting for from Thorin. "No one enters Laketown but by leave of the Master." Of that, Bard was absolutely certain. He was also beginning to wonder how it was that  _he_  was going to make it into Laketown. "All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

By this point, Bard knew he was within earshot of the barge and silently hoped that his children would understand the angle he was going for and play along. It did not escape his notice how Thorin Oakenshield and the old Dwarf quietly argued about how they would earn Bard's safe passage into Laketown. "I'll wager that there are ways to enter that town unseen."

Ah. Bard's plan had worked. "Aye," he replied, enjoying himself far too much at this point. "For that, you would need a smuggler."

"For which we would pay double."

So, perhaps it was rude to play the Dwarves in such a way, but he had intended to keep his staying at Mirkwood a secret, so this was the way to do it. If the looks on his children's faces was anything to go by, they could see Bard's amusement. Bard finally stopped beside the barge, turning to face the Dwarves, a number of them rolling their own barrels. "Very well then," Bard said, looking directly at the old Dwarf. "It would not be considered inhospitable for you and your kin to assist me a little further in order to put the barrels on my barge." Bard gestured for his children to move out of the way and to his side.

Within this encounter, Bard realized that his time in Mirkwood had enhanced his ability to notice things that previously escaped his attention. One such thing he was noticing now was the way the young, blonde Dwarf seemed to be enraptured by Sigrid. He glanced at Sigrid, sending her a silent word of caution as he did. She nodded, clearly understanding him. "Da, what're Dwarves doing here?" Tilda looked up at Bard with her innocent look, though Bard did not doubt that Tilda knew exactly how it was Bard had played the Dwarves.

Keeping his voice loud enough so that the Dwarves could hear him, Bard answered Tilda. "They're traveling through Laketown to visit their kin in the Iron Hills." Tilda nodded solemnly, though, judging by the looks she shared with Sigrid and Bain, the three of them saw through the lie as easily as he had.

This was definitely far more entertaining for the small family of four than it was for the company of Dwarves.

* * *

Bard supposed he should have been flattered when the balding Dwarf, whom he now knew to be named Dwalin, accused him of trying to kill them. "I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf. If I wanted to kill you, I would not do it here." Tilda's innocent smile was the ending factor to that conversation.

Meanwhile, the old Dwarf - Balin, Bard knew his name to be - was attempting to collect money from the rest of the Dwarves, and was apparently coming up short. Bard shared looks with his children occasionally, the four of them continuously amused by the Dwarves' poor attempts to keep their true purpose a secret.

"You must forgive my companions for their rudeness, Master Bargeman," the Halfling said, coming over to Bard. Bard looked to the Halfling, unsurprised to see him attempting to warm himself. "It has been a very long time since they have seen their kin, and it's beginning to irritate all of them, with all of the distractions and obstacles we've run into." The Halfling looked up at Bard, apparently pulling his words from the truth. "What's your name?"

Bard turned his eyes back to the water before him, not wishing to be rude to the Halfling. "I am called Bard," he answered, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret once he got to Laketown. Come to think of it, there were many things Bard wouldn't be able to keep secret once he got back to Laketown. "And yours?"

The Halfling seemed a bit more hesitant to offer up his own name. "Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire," he replied after a time. Bilbo nodded to Bard's children. "What're their names?"

"Sigrid is the oldest's, with Bain being the middle. Tilda's the youngest of the three." Bard glanced at each of his children in turn, wondering how much of their fates was in his hands at that very moment. "They don't normally come with me on jobs," Bard continued, the conversation offering a welcome alternative to his thoughts of making a mistake. "But, they refused to let me come alone."

Bilbo nodded, seeming to understand. "Do they do that often? Worry about you so much that they won't let you go alone," Bilbo added, clarifying his statement.

"That they do, Master Baggins, though they should not have to."

Once more, Bilbo nodded, looking out to his companions, the Dwarves still collecting money to pay Bard. "I would think that, living in Mirkwood, they would have less to worry about than they did in Laketown." Bard's attention immediately shifted back to Bilbo, wonder and surprise covering his face. Bilbo looked back up at Bard, the Halfling failing to suppress a smile. "Don't worry, Bard. None of my companions have noticed. It's not like they would anyway, what with the lack of attention they pay to details."

Bard offered Bilbo a small smile, curious now. "How is it that you managed to put it together?"

Bilbo shrugged. "Your other clothes, aside from your coat and boots, seem to be made of better materials. I don't know an awful lot about weapons, but your bow and arrows seem very similar to those that were being shot at us as we left Mirkwood." The Halfling seemed to notice the change in Bard's expression. "I won't tell them, of course," Bilbo said, attempting to put Bard at ease. "You must have your own reasons not to speak of your connection with the Elves, and it's probably for the best, given how we were treated upon our exit."

"I thank you, Master Baggins." Bard looked away from the water to find the Dwarves still huddled around, counting their money. "Perhaps you had best rejoin your company so as to keep suspicion at bay." Bilbo nodded, giving Bard a quick smile before leaving the bargeman alone.

Sigrid joined her father in the Halfling's absence. "Anything we should worry about?"

Bard shook his head. "The only non-Dwarf in the company has realized that we have lived in Mirkwood. He has given his word not to tell the rest of them." Sigrid turned her head sharply to look at Bard, clearly concerned despite her father's reassurance. "There still remains the issue of how it is that we are going to enter Laketown without being arrested on sight," Bard continued, glancing to his eldest in the hopes of sparking some ideas.

"What're you talking about, Da?" Bain and Tilda joined the rest of their family at the barge's stern. Bard's younger children looked less concerned than their older sibling, but not by much. "Is this about how we're supposed to get in without raising any suspicion?"

Tilda grinned, hopping up onto a nearby barrel. "Well that's simple. We do the opposite of what the Master would expect us to do." Bard, Sigrid, and Bain all looked at her, Bard switching between looking at his youngest and at the waters ahead. "The Master would expect us to attempt to hide our re-entry into Laketown, going so far as to hide the true reason that we're back, especially after what happened when we left." She shrugged. "So, let's do the opposite of what the Master expects of us."

Bard ruffled Tilda's hair after gesturing for Sigrid to take over the steering for a moment. "It sounds like a wonderful plan, Tilda. But there is still the expectation that the Master will arrest me the minute I set foot in town."

His youngest looked up at her father, confused. "Da, don't you remember?" Clearly none of her family remembered, and Tilda sighed, frustrated. "Da, you're under King Thranduil's protection. The Master can't lay a finger on you, not if he wants to keep on trading with Mirkwood."

It was then that the family of Men realized that their passengers were staring at the Lonely Mountain, exactly what they had come all of this way for. Well that and to hopefully not wake up a dragon in their quest to reclaim the Mountain - oh, wait, that was what Bard was there for.

Bilbo was the first of the group to turn away from the Mountain once they couldn't see it anymore. He froze when he saw Bard and his family watching the rest of the company. In a panic, Bilbo rushed over to the Men. "This isn't what it looks like," the Halfling attempted to explain.

Bard raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Is it? I thought it was the company of Thorin Oakenshield admiring the home which they have come all of this way to reclaim from an angry giant lizard." He turned to his children, shrugging. "Strange, and I thought that I had heard correctly from the rumors being spread."

They were amused when Bilbo's jaw actually dropped. By this time, the rest of Thorin Oakenshield's company had begun to turn back around. Sigrid put a hand on her father's arm. "I think we should tell them." She looked up at Bard earnestly - oddly enough, it was the same look that had gotten him into this situation. "We should tell them everything."

"But only an incredibly condensed version," Bain added. Sigrid and Tilda nodded - the full story was far too long to be told to the Dwarves in the short amount of time they had left before they reached Laketown.

Bard sighed, conceding to his children's judgement. "Very well. Master Oakenshield," he said, catching Thorin Oakenshield's attention. "I believe there are a few things you and your company should know before we reach Laketown." Thorin Oakenshield and several members of his company crossed their arms over their chests, attempting to look intimidating. "For several months now, my family and I have been living in Mirkwood, under the protection of King Thranduil. It was not honest of me to lie to you all, though I still have suspicions that you would not have accepted my help if I had simply offered you transport out of nowhere." Most of the company before Bard grumbled, but Bilbo nodded his head. "The Master sent me to Mirkwood in the hopes that King Thranduil would reform me into a more obedient man. Instead, King Thranduil made me a sort of guest-servant and put me under his protection so that the Master would not hurt me. Also, in Laketown, I am known as Dragonslayer."

* * *

Truth be told, Bard thought that that went better than he could have imagined. Now all they had to do was get back into Laketown, make a dramatic entrance, find the Dwarves somewhere to stay for the night, and then send the company of Thorin Oakenshield off on their merry way. Bard had hopes that they would not wake Smaug, but his instincts told him otherwise. His mind, when not focused on the plan they were to pull off, was on the Black Arrow, still hiding in his family's old shack - which, hopefully, the Master had been too afraid to ransack in their absence.

"So, Dragonslayer," Thorin Oakenshield said, coming up beside Bard. "How much faith do you have in this plan of your's?"

Bard glanced at Thorin Oakenshield. "I have as much faith in the success of my plan as you do in the success of your own plan to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, Master Oakenshield." He straightened his back slightly when he caught sight of the entrance to Laketown up ahead. "And, if you must call me anything, I would prefer it to be Master Bargeman." With that, Bard steered his barge up to Percy's office, his children moving to temporarily secure the barge to the wooden planks.

"Goods inspection," Percy called out from inside, drawing a small smile onto Bard's face. "Ah, Bard, it's you." Bard grinned lopsidedly for a moment, waiting for Percy to realize exactly what it was he had just said. "Bard, it's you!" Percy's face lit up at the sight of the bargeman, moving to clasp Bard's arm. "And your little ones are back as well!" He grinned at the children, ruffling Bain's hair a little. A moment later, Percy's face dropped. "What are you doing here? It's not safe!"

"Is that the mighty Dragonslayer I hear?" Alfrid slinked out from around the corner, Percy reluctantly stepping back for the Master's croney to take his place in front of Bard. "What brings you back to Laketown?" Bard held himself still as Alfrid leered at Sigrid, his eldest staring Alfrid down.

"I did not return for you to lay any part of your filthy self upon my daughter. I have returned to see the Master. There is a company of Dwarves here that wishes to see him." Bard started at Alfrid coldly, ignoring the sneer on Alfrid's face. "They require lodgings for the night, as well as weapons and armor."

Alfrid let out a laugh. "What makes you think I'll listen to anything you have to say, let alone these vagabonds?"

Bard grinned lazily, his expression exuding confidence. "Unless you want to risk stopping all trade with the Elves, I suggest you do what I say."

Promising the Master lots and lots of gold was always the best way to get the disgusting idiot's cooperation. Then an offshoot of the Dwarves were left behind in his house the next day while the rest of them went off to go wake a dragon because the young one with an injured leg was dying.

When Tauriel and Legolas appeared, crashing through all parts of his house while fighting Orcs, Bard wasn't exactly surprised. He pulled out his own bow and arrow, taking down as many of the ugly creatures as he could. Legolas took off after what was apparently the lead Orc, following it because he was not about to lose to an Orc. Tauriel stayed behind to heal the young Dwarf, apparently named Kili.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the art that was Elvish healing, but Bard suddenly felt very nauseous for some reason. It was amazing to watch Tauriel work, though it did nothing to stop the notion in Bard's head that Thranduil had once undergone a major healing, far more complicated that what it was Tauriel was doing.

Within the next twenty-four hours, as Bard had predicted, there was a dragon flying towards Laketown, clearly intent on destroying it. Bard grabbed the Black Arrow, dealing with the fact that Bain was upset with him for not sharing the fact that he had the Black Arrow with Bain and Bain subsequent desire to help his father get rid of Smaug. He sent Sigrid and Tilda away with Tauriel and the Dwarves, hoping that his friend would keep his children safe. Tauriel offered words of reassurance that she would do so, but Bard keep his doubts. It wasn't everyday that one faced a dragon after all.

And though he and Bain were successful in killing Smaug, admittedly after Smaug had destroyed the majority of Laketown, Bard apparently cut it a little too close. It was only when he and Bain had reached the shores of the Lonely Mountain that Bard realized he had been burned by dragonfire.

Somehow, even though Bain and Sigrid had to support him the entire time, Bard was able to convince the survivors of Laketown to follow him to Dale so that they could meet Thranduil there and, hopefully, claim the gold that Thorin Oakenshield owed them.

It was all Bard could do to hold onto the hope that Thranduil would keep his word and meet them there with the supplies they needed to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Movie dialogue.


	14. Things Get Sappy

_Back to the present…_

Bard made a weak gesture once he'd finished in an attempt to fill the silence that followed, trying to avoid the look on Thranduil's face. "You all know what happened after that." He fidgeted for a few moments, unsure as to the thoughts of his Elven companions. Even at the best of times, despite the many months spent in their company, Bard found Elves to be creatures of relatively private emotions, having come to expect that the emotions he did see were not what his company was currently feeling.

His children seemed to be facing the same issue, all of their faces reflecting some form of concern as the four Elves before them took in Bard's story. Tauriel had joined the group on their way to Elrond's tent, as concerned for Bard's well-being as the rest of them, though she showed slightly more of it than her King or prince.

A sharp pain ran through Bard's side, and he attempted to bring his arm around his middle without bringing any attention to himself. He understood how lucky he was to be alive at that moment and, very suddenly, realized how foolish it was of him to ask Elrond to bring Bard to his children, going so far as to attempt to walk unaided. Judging by the sudden weariness that washed over him, Elrond has been right to worry over Bard's health.

It was with a very audible groan of pain that Bard brought the attention of everyone else present back to him, the dragonslayer feeling the effects of his wounds far more strongly now that he had completed his tale. "My lord Elrond, would you do me the honor of assisting me to a cot? I believe I am in need of some rest." Foolishly, Bard attempted to stand on his own, feeling his legs give out the moment he placed all of his weight on them.

There was a rush of movement as everyone moved to help Bard at once. His children reached him first, Sigrid and Bain placing Bard's arms around their shoulders to support him while Tilda's first instincts brought her to her father's bandages, resting careful hands against the staining cloth. "Of all the foolish things," Sigrid muttered, catching sight of Tilda's wide eyes. "You couldn't have just waited until you were certain you would live to come see us?" She turned her head to look at her father's face, still pale from his injuries.

Bard offered his eldest a weak smile. "I couldn't die without having seen my children one last time." Tilda whined, hugging her father carefully and as tightly as possible.

" _Winimo_ ," Thranduil said softly, and Tilda let out another whine. "Lord Elrond needs to take care of your father, Tilda." Sigrid and Bain pulled back first, and Sigrid was the one who put her arms around Tilda, picking her sister up.

Once Legolas and Elrond moved to support Bard, and his children were definitely in Tauriel and Thranduil's care, Bard took the opportunity to allow himself to fall unconscious. His body had been fighting to stay conscious for nearly an hour by then.

* * *

Exhausted was a good word to describe Thranduil at the moment. Watching Bard be taken away to be healed by Elrond twice in as many days brought back many bad memories for the Elvenking. He hadn't been able to make himself stay to offer support to Rivendell's lord - after all, so much healing couldn't be good for Elrond's health.

Both Legolas and Tauriel had stayed with the Lord of Rivendell, though, which left Thranduil with Bard's children. And judging from the looks on their faces, he wasn't doing a decent job of hiding his exhaustion. His entire left side ached as it had been doing since the battle for Erebor had ended. Thranduil was concentrating so hard on maintaining his glamour that he nearly dropped it when Tilda put a hand on his arm. He looked at her, the young girl looking back at him curiously. "Why does it bother you to see Da be healed by Lord Elrond?"

The Elvenking lifted his head further to see Sigrid and Bain looking at him as well, mixtures of concern and curiosity on their faces. "I too was once healed by Lord Elrond, many years ago. It was not the most pleasant of times for my people."

"Will you show us?" Tilda didn't look back at Sigrid or Bain, both of whom seemed vaguely mortified at Tilda's question. "We know you told Thorin Oakenshield about how you've faced dragons before. Did you show him?" Thranduil nodded, afraid to speak for what he might say should it offend the children.

Sensing an opening, Sigrid rushed forward, putting an arm around Tilda's shoulders. "You do not have to if you do not wish to, my lord. I am certain that Tilda did not mean any sort of insult to your character by asking you or mentioning your talk with Thorin Oakenshield." Thranduil realized then that, even after their stay in Mirkwood, Bard's children were afraid that the Elvenking would do something to hurt them.

Thranduil looked to his tent's entrance. " _Ála presta men_ ," he commanded the soldiers standing watch, who had no doubt heard the entire exchange. With that done, Thranduil turned back to Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda. "I harbor no ill will towards Tilda, nor towards any member of your family, Sigrid, daughter of Bard the Bowman. However, I do not enjoy the scars that I carry from my injuries." He took a steadying breath, preparing himself for the reactions he would receive. "I will not ask you to not think less of me or as someone to be pitied - I have no control over what your responses will be. However, out of all of the reactions that have followed, I cannot stand those the most." With that, Thranduil allowed his glamour to fall away.

Three sharp gasps followed this, which Thranduil did not watch, having closed his eyes. He could tell that the children had stayed relatively still in the minute that followed, though it seemed like they were itching to move closer. It brought back memories that Thranduil would have rather stayed in the past - pity and sympathy washing over him as everyone looked at him sadly, feeling his pain with him. It left him feeling vulnerable, and that was one thing that Thranduil hated the most. But, if it convinced these fragile, mortal children who had managed to coax their way into Thranduil's daily life that he would never hurt them, then Thranduil was willing to endure it. Only then did it occur to the Elvenking that he may have to endure it once more after this, if only to prove to Bard of his sincerity, though Thranduil hardly thought that Bard needed to be convinced any more. Still, Men were strange creatures, and just when Thranduil thought he was beginning to understand them, they would go and do something surprising.

" _Aranín_ ," Sigrid said, breaking the silence and stepping towards Thranduil. That seemed to break whatever barrier had formed in the past few minutes, quickly followed by the three children hugging Thranduil.

In his surprise, the Elvenking opened his eyes to look at them, only remembering after he'd done so of what his left eye looked like. But none of the children recoiled at the sight, looking up at him with identical expressions of concern. Bain was the first one to find enough courage to ask Thranduil any of his questions. "Does it hurt?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Many days, it does not. However, on such occasions as this, some of the pain returns, as a reminder of what I have experienced." He furrowed his eyebrows after a moment, confused. "Why do you all act so calm?"

Sigrid glanced at Bain and Tilda, biting her lip as she did. "You trust us, _aranín_. It is only fair that we treat you in a way that's deserving of your trust." She took a deep breath before continuing. "There are so few that have it that it honors us." Thranduil nodded, silently thanking the three of them.

Tilda inched back away from the chair so that she could properly look at the Elvenking. "Would it hurt you if I touched you?" Bain and Thranduil furrowed their eyebrows, slightly confused, as Sigrid looked at Tilda, an alarmed look on her face. "Like your face," Tilda continued. "Can I?"

It was clear that Sigrid was going to say something to reproach Tilda for asking such a question, but Thranduil stopped it with a nod of his head. For a moment, Thranduil was afraid that the youngest of Bard's children was going to touch his scars, but instead she reached for his unblemished cheek, resting her fingers against it gently. "If I may, aranín," Bain said quietly, not wanting to break the bubble that seemed to enclose them. "How many others have seen your injuries?"

Thranduil waited until Tilda had satisfied her desire to touch him before answering Bain. "Only a handful, but it has been many years since any of those previously privileged have seen them." He gave the children a small smile. "It seems you three have become part of a very small group of people." Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda returned his smile, lighting up their faces.

" _Aranín_ ," one of the soldiers outside of Thranduil's tent said, not coming inside. Thranduil and the children looked up, the Elvenkind asking " _Man_?". "Lord Elrond is here,  _aranín_. He has requested to see you."

" _Dartho min edwen_ ," Thranduil commanded, bringing his glamour back up as he did. " _Tolo_ ," the Elvenking said once he determined himself presentable for Elrond. " _Mae tollen, hîr o Imladris_." Thranduil greeted Elrond as the latter entered the tent.

Elrond raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised at this display of formality from Thranduil. " _Suilad, aran en' Eryn Galen_." He narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the Elvenking. "Chín, if I am not mistaken, King Thranduil here has entrusted you with the secret of his scars." Thranduil gave Elrond a stern look, which the older elf chose to ignore in favor of acknowledging the children's stunned affirmations. "Has he done you the honor of telling you the story of how he got them?" Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda shook their heads. "Well, perhaps it is a story for another time," Elrond continued after a suddenly unprepared, terrified look from Thranduil. "Would you not care to hear how your own father does?"

"How's Da?" Suddenly, Elrond had the three children before him, all asking him variations of the same questions in regards to their father's health.

The Lord of Rivendell smiled at the children, easing their fears. "Your father lives,  _chín_. He is resting - it was not wise of any of us to allow him up while his body still heals from the wounds he has suffered." He leaned over as if to tell them a secret. "If you ask the guard outside, he would gladly accompany you three to your father's bedside." Bard's children all light up with excitement, thanking Elrond profusely and bidding Thranduil goodbye before rushing out of the tent. Once they had gone, Elrond turned his attention to the Elvenking. "It has been many years since anyone, including myself, has seen the scars you received from fighting the Serpents of the North."

"I showed them to Thorin Oakenshield," Thranduil said hollowly, "in an attempt to warn him against waking Smaug and offer my assistance in reclaiming the Lonely Mountain peacefully. Before then, it had been long since anyone saw them. "

Elrond was quiet, taking in what Thranduil had told him. "When Dragonslayer, Bard, was telling of how he got the dwarves into Laketown, he ended with how he and his children could only hope that you would keep your word and meet them here, in Dale." He watched Thranduil's face for any change in the Elvenking's expression. "Do not think that your pain was missed."

It took a while for Thranduil to reply to Elrond. "In Mirkwood," Thranduil began, spitting out the new name for his beloved home. "Bard had this strange, seemingly unshakeable, though incredibly fragile faith in me. It appears as though this faith has been shattered by the Dwarves expedition to reclaim the Lonely Mountain."

The Lord of Rivendell looked at Thranduil, confusion settling across his face. "Thranduil, do you remember how you were just after receiving your wounds?" Judging from the way the Elvenking avoided Elrond's eyes, Thranduil did not in fact remember. "You were hurt and untrusting of everyone - in some ways, you still are. You forget, I have been healer to both you and Bard. I have seen his scars as well as yours. You two are more alike than you may think." Thranduil only looked at Elrond when the Lord of Rivendell put a hand on his arm. "Speak with him. It does not do well to leave matters undiscussed - for anyone." It didn't take someone with Galadriel's powers to figure out what Thranduil was thinking, so Elrond decided to change topics slightly, even if it was a more delicate topic. "How are your scars?"

Thranduil didn't answer him verbally, conceding to his body's growing tiredness and dropping his glamour. Elrond moved toward the Elvenking, turning his friend's face slightly so that he might have a better look at Thranduil's scars. He was quiet as he observed them, studying their appearance as well as he could. "Does it look as though any time has passed?"

Elrond stepped back, leading Thranduil to look at him. "They are healing. They look far better than they did the last time I saw them, Thranduil. Do not despair that you are beyond the powers of time," he continued, anticipating the Elvenking's thoughts. "As it is often said, time heals all wounds. They may not disappear completely, but they may become easier to live with."

Thranduil furrowed his eyebrows slightly, looking at Elrond with a confused expression. "Are you still speaking of my dragonfire scars, Elrond?"

The Lord of Rivendell began walking out of Thranduil's tent. " _Fuin vaer, mellon. Losto vae_." He paused at the tent's entrance, turning back to look at Thranduil. "Remember - scars may not fade completely, but they can be an easier burden to bear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ála presta men - Do not disturb us
> 
> Man - What
> 
> Dartho min edwen - Wait one moment
> 
> Tolo - Come
> 
> Mae tollen, hîr o Imladris - Welcome, lord of Rivendell
> 
> Suilad, aran en' Eryn Galen - Greetings, king of Greenwood
> 
> chín - Children
> 
> Fuin vaer, mellon. Losto vae - Good night, friend. Sleep well.


	15. Hope and Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scars and talking

"Something is on your mind, _Ada_."

Thranduil looked up when Legolas spoke, his son having been in his tent for about five minutes before speaking. Legolas was studying his father's face, not sure of what was going on in Thranduil's head. He looked vulnerable, if Legolas had to decide on a word to describe the look on his father's face. "When was the last time you saw my face, _pîn las_?"

It was a long moment before Legolas realized what his father was talking about. "Most likely around the same time as last you called me that." Legolas did not think of it often, but he did realize that when he looked at his father, he was looking at a mask or rather at magic. "It has been a very long time since either of those things have happened," Legolas added when Thranduil didn't say anything. He sat by his father, unsure of where this conversation was going or what his father's thoughts were.

"Do you remember what they look like?"

It was then that Legolas understood what his father meant to do. " _Ada_ , if it pains you, do not do this. I understand that you do not wish for people to believe you weak or pitiable, and this is an unnecessary action for you to take." He stopped when he really looked at Thranduil's expression, his words stolen from him because of it.

"My son, do you remember?" Silently, Legolas shook his head. No, he couldn't remember what his father's scars looked like, having refused to look upon them often because that meant continuously imagining what it was like for his father while he was having those wounds inflicted upon him. Thranduil nodded, like that was what he was expecting.

Legolas steeled himself for his father's next actions, trying not to let his reaction show too much when Thranduil dropped his glamour. He reached for Thranduil's hand, his father gripping onto Legolas's once they came into contact. Legolas remembered how much it hurt to see his father in so much pain, so vulnerable. "I wish you would have told me something sooner," Legolas said after a minute of looking over his father's scars, not quite as painful as they had once looked but still enough for Legolas to feel for his father.

Thranduil shook his head, looking at Legolas with his one good eye. "It was not your burden to carry, Legolas."

Silence fell between the two of them as Thranduil finally allowed Legolas to carry a bit of Thranduil's pain with him. "You intend to show Bard." Legolas watched Thranduil's face, not expecting a reaction but still trying to see if he could find one.

His father nodded. "His children have already seen. They do not pity me and wish to help carry my pain as well." Legolas let a small smile cross his face. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda would grow up to be good, wise people, better than they already were. "I am willing to face the consequences of Bard's reaction, be it his complete loss of faith in me or something worse."

Legolas furrowed his brow, confused by Thranduil's words. "What loss of faith? Bard has not shown any signs of -" and there Legolas stopped, remembering how Bard ended his retelling of what had happened once he left Mirkwood. He _hoped_ that Thranduil would keep his word, he did not know for a face that the Elvenking would be true. "When do you intend to speak with him about this?"

"I have not yet decided, though it must be soon." Thranduil looked back up at Legolas from where his gaze had shifted to their hands. "We must return home, Legolas. The new people of Dale need assistance, but we cannot stay here to provide it personally." Legolas's father looked just as distraught at the idea of leaving as Legolas felt. "We may visit in order to be certain that they are rebuilding their lives, but we cannot stay forever."

It was Thranduil's use of the word "forever" that reminded Legolas of what they would really be leaving behind. "You care for him." It was such a simple statement that he never considered any other reason as to why his father would regret leaving the Men of Dale.

Thranduil's only reply to Legolas's statement was a slight squeeze of his son's hand before the Elvenking changed topics. "Go, my son. No doubt you have better things to do then worry for your father."

Legolas smiled again. "Bard's children are able to do so. Why am I not allowed the same privilege?" Thranduil shook his head, his smile a mirror to Legolas's. " _Fuin vaer_ , _hodo vae_ , _Ada_." Legolas stood, pressing their joined hands to his chest.

" _Fuin vaer_ , _hodo vae_ , _ion nín_." Thranduil pressed their hands to his chest before letting go of Legolas. With that, Legolas left his father's tent and Thranduil was left to his thoughts once again.

* * *

Bard was unprepared for a visit from Thranduil. "King Thranduil," Bard greeted the Elvenking, the bowman's brain stuttering to a halt from where he had been thinking of Dale's impending reconstruction. It had occurred to him that the people may want to declare him Dale's new king, but Bard knew that the highest title he would accept would be lord.

Thranduil bowed his head to Bard, bringing the bowman's thoughts back to the present. "How fare your injuries?" The Elvenking seemed to hover at the edge of the tent, standing just inside the tent's entryway.

His query about Bard's well being threw the bowman off slightly, making Bard take a moment to actually process Thranduil's question. "They are taking their time to heal, my king. It may be some time before I am able to move and act as I used to." A strange silence seemed to fall over them then, neither one unsure of how to continue. "I offer my apologies, King Thranduil." Thranduil looked at Bard, the hint of a question on his face. "Had I not requested that you meet me here, in Dale, you would not have gone to battle for the Lonely Mountain and many of your people would still be alive."

"I would have come even if you had not made that request." The corner of Thranduil's mouth quirked up after a moment. "And you did not request my assistance so much as you demanded it," the Elvenking added, taking another step inside of the tent. He glanced around the tent, seeming to realize for the first time that they were alone. "Have your children gone to assist the others?"

Bard nodded, smiling easily. "Sigrid has gone to see if she could be of any assistance to Lord Elrond. I think she's taken an interest in Elven healing, though she knows that there is no way for her to ever perform such healings like the one that saved my life." He did not look up to see Thranduil's reaction - he had a fairly good idea of what the Elvenking's expression was when Bard referred to his injury. "Bain and Tilda have gone to see if they can help any of the townspeople, organize the supplies and things like that."

Thranduil nodded. "They are wonderful people. You raised them well." Bard shrugged, not willing to take all of the credit for his children. The silence fell over them again, neither knowing what to say next. "If we are speaking of apologies, allow me to offer mine for whatever action it is that I took that caused your faith in me to waver when you escorted Thorin Oakenshield and his company to Laketown." Thranduil hovered for a moment, unsure if he should continue or not. "I did not mean to leave any question in your mind as to what my actions would be."

Not quite sure of what Thranduil was referring to, Bard opened his mouth to ask the Elvenking to clarify, stopping himself when he recalled his own words as to his _hope_ that Thranduil would stay true to his word. "It was never my intention to offend you with my slip of the tongue, _aranín_. However," Bard continued, carefully plotting his response before speaking. "It occurs to me that you believe faith and hope to be entirely separate entities in this situation." Thranduil tilted his head slightly, just enough to give Bard the courage to continue. "Hope is confident belief, trust, the desire for the most favorable outcome in the worst of all situations. Faith is confidence and trust in a person or an object. I did not mean by the use of one that I had lost the right to the other."

Judging by the absence of tension in Thranduil's jaw, Bard assumed that he had been correct in his guess that the Elvenking believed that Bard did not trust Thranduil. "Once again, allow me to offer my apologies for this misunderstanding." It was then that Bard noticed Thranduil beginning to slowly back away from Bard's cot. "Clearly, I have been wrong in reading this situation, so allow me to take my leave of you. No doubt you are in need of rest and my presence here is not assisting with that in any way."

"Thranduil." The Elvenking stopped where he was nearly to the tent's entrance, his eyes wide in surprise. It was another moment before Bard realized what made Thranduil stop. It was the first time Bard had called the Elvenking by his name, minus the title. "I value your company and would request you stay," Bard continued, not avoiding the awkward silence as smoothly as he would have liked. Thranduil realized it as well, if the slight upward curve of his mouth was anything to go by. "I would be honored if you would stay." Bard stayed silent as Thranduil moved back to his side, not sure of his other observation. "You had another reason to visit me, one that you have not yet addressed, Thranduil."

Thranduil looked at Bard, his head turning sharply to look at the Man. "Have you always had so keen an eye, Bowman?" Bard shrugged slightly, a small smile on his face. "What you say is true, I do have another reason to visit, though ensuring your well being is reason enough." The Elvenking moved a chair closer to Bard's cot, his expression solemn, almost as though he was reconsidering his actions. "You have heard tell of the scars I carry, have you not?"

Bard nodded, some idea of what Thranduil was planning in his head. Before the Elvenking continued, Bard took the opportunity to confirm his suspicions. "What did my children say about them?"

"They honor my request to avoid pitying me and have offered their assistance in my continued healing," Thranduil answered after a long moment. "I believe they would find it only logical if I offered you the same opportunity." He paused, looking at Bard. "Are you prepared then?"

"There is no greater honor you could bestow upon me than that of your trust, Thranduil. I am ready." Bard assumed he said the right then when Thranduil nodded. He took a deep breath before watching the Elvenking drop his valued glamour.

If Bard was to be completely honest, he did not believe Thranduil had reason to be as concerned with his appearance as the Elvenking so clearly was. Yes, the scars looked as though they caused Thranduil great pain upon first receiving them, but they also looked far better than the current dragonfire burns adorning Bard's own side. Even so, Bard could see why Thranduil took such great pains to hide them, aware of the ethereal beauty elves cherished above most else and how the scars would likely have diminished Thranduil's beauty, if not in Bard's eyes than in those of Thranduil's kin.

"I do not believe your children took so long to speak," Thranduil said, and Bard realized that the Elvenking was attempting to make a _joke_. Bard looked away from Thranduil's scars to meet the Elvenking's eyes. Thranduil's expression was solemn though he had a sad smile on his face. "Is it truly that terrible to look at?"

Bard shook his head. "Your face could never be a terrible thing," he replied, attempting, and failing, to keep the mood light. He cleared his throat after a moment. "My apologies. I thought that, by reassuring you of your appearance, I could ease your worries slightly." Bard grimaced, his eyes flicking around the tent. "I believe my failure just now was spectacular."

When Bard looked back at Thranduil, there was a small smile on the Elvenking's face. "It wasn't quite as spectacular as the one time Legolas thought he had a crush on Tauriel and he told her," Thranduil said, making Bard laugh. "Oh the look on his face was fantastic. I did comfort him though," the Elvenking continued. Bard raised his eyebrows and mouthed "Oh?". "I told him that she could have stabbed him if she truly didn't like him."

Bard laughed again, making Thranduil smile even more. "I do fear for Sigrid's first boyfriend now. Courting the daughter of the Dragonslayer will surely be a challenging feat now." The two fathers shook their heads, enjoying their children's torment, both of the past and of that yet to come. Bard looked at Thranduil again, a question suddenly crossing his mind. "What was she like?"

Thranduil met Bard's eyes, forgetting for a moment that Bard could see him in his scarred imperfection. "What was who like?"

"Your wife," Bard answered. "Legolas's mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR YOU GUYS WE MADE IT!
> 
> Now, for my actual notes: I hate myself for this chapter. I said I would get to the b/romance thing and I didn't AND IT REALLY NEEDS TO HAPPEN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME. Anyway, Elvish:
> 
> pîn las - little leaf
> 
> Fuin vaer, hodo vae - Good night, rest well
> 
> Also, I am so terribly sorry for this chapter taking as long as it did. I'm suffering from what may possibly be the longest case of writer's block ever. It sucks. I promise, I'll address the b/romance thing next chapter. Since bromance won the poll, the bromance chapter gets to go first.
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, reviews, critiques, ideas, literal unicorns (which I got for Christmas), and anything else you feel like leaving here! Everything is welcomed and actively encouraged!


	16. FINALLY BROMANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after an incredibly long wait, I present the non-barduil ending

Now, the way he saw it, Thranduil had two options. Option one: he left Bard’s tent right then and there and never spoke to the Bowman ever again. However, that would be childish and immature and highly unfavorable. Option two: he answered Bard’s relatively innocent question honestly as best he could without reopening those wounds. As painful as it sounded, it was the more preferable of Thranduil’s two options. He wasn’t given very long to decide, taking into account the fact that Bard was watching Thranduil with growing concern. 

“She was as I would imagine your wife was,” Thranduil began, noting how Bard seemed to retreat back inside himself at the mention of his wife. “Beautiful, loving, caring, kind, brave, stubborn” - here Bard let out a little snort, telling Thranduil that he was correct in that assumption - “everything I could ever dream of in a partner.” He was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should continue or not. “It nearly killed me when she was killed.” Thranduil looked at Bard again. “Why do you ask about her?” 

Bard shrugged. “Little is known about the manner in which Elves choose their significant others, almost nothing when the full scale of Man’s knowledge about Elves is taken into consideration. I know Men are fickle creatures who find it strange, if not impossible, to choose one partner for all of eternity. What I suppose it is I am trying to say is that I would like to understand more about the one you chose to be with you forever.” 

As seemingly a now-common occurrence when in Bard’s presence, Thranduil found himself speechless. “That is a very thoughtful action, Bowman. I thank you for the effort, though I am not certain I understand your motives.”

Once again, Bard shrugged. “When the opportunity presents itself, it is common for Men to discover the personalities of their friends as best they can. One method for extracting is often by asking about the people one’s friend surrounds himself with.”

Thranduil quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Is this an effort to discover whether or not I am worthy of your friendship, Bard? I was under the impression that with you as the new Lord of Dale that we could reforge the friendship between our peoples.”

Bard’s face lit up when he realized Thranduil was teasing him. “And I believed myself to be under the impression that the Elvenking of the Greenwood didn’t partake in the teasing of injured Men.” 

Said Elvenking’s smile grew, actually taking over his face as Thranduil became more relaxed. It faded some after a few moments. “I cannot stay here as long as I would like to,” he admitted, bringing the cheerful atmosphere down some. “My people will need me back in Mirkwood, and, no doubt, you and your people will require more supplies once you run out of the ones that we have already provided for you. However, I do believe that I can remain here until Dale is able to run itself with minimal interference from me and my people.” 

The unofficial Lord of Dale raised an eyebrow. “And how long do you believe that could take?”

“It could take a considerable amount of time, Lord Bard. So long as you are willing to put up with my company.” Thranduil glanced at Bard from where he had been staring at the tent’s wall in an attempt to look haughty and distant. Bard rolled his eyes at the Elvenking’s theatrics. 

It was a moment later that Bard realized Thranduil’s glamour was still down, and Thranduil was actually  _ relaxed _ , the Elvenking apparently paying no mind to the fact that his scars were still visible.  _ That _ was the moment that Bard began to feel truly honored to be Thranduil’s friend. “I think I could survive for an extended period of time in your company.” 

* * *

Gandalf sat at the table formerly used for their battle planning, smoking his pipe while Bard, Thranduil, and Elrond all sat at the other three sides of the table. The grey wizard puffed out a few smoke rings before deciding to speak. “You know,” he began, the other three seeming to not be paying attention to him. “There are tales of those who have successfully slain dragons and lived forever, not being brought down by any injury sustained by our weaponry.”

Thranduil and Elrond both looked at each other across the table, but didn’t dignify Gandalf’s statement with any sort of response. Bard hummed, apparently not disturbed by the gray wizard’s words. “Is that so? I had not heard such a tale,” Bard said, when it was clear Gandalf was waiting for some sort of verbal response. 

When Gandalf didn’t continue, Bard glanced up from the old contract between Laketown and the Woodland Realm that someone had found for him. “I had thought that either King Thranduil or Lord Elrond might warn you as to the possible outcomes as a result of your success in killing the dragon, Smaug,” Gandalf said, a deep frown on his face. 

Bard shook his head, his expression calm in the face of this most definitely life altering information. “I’m afraid neither of them mentioned such a tale to me.” A small smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. “Legolas and Tauriel might have mentioned something to my children who then ran straight to me to tell me, however.” He shrugged then in an effort to maintain his disinterested expression - one that Elrond noticed was very similar to the one Thranduil was wearing. “If the tales prove to be true, I’m sure that his Majesty King Thranduil would be more than willing to assist me in the ways of immortality. Lord Elrond’s council will always be more than welcome, should he be willing to offer his advice in that area.” 

It was then that Bard flicked his eyes between Thranduil and Elrond, inadvertently providing Gandalf with the evidence that Bard was playing the fool. Though the soon-to-be Lord’s words were solemn, there was a mischievous look in his eyes. Gandalf huffed out a laugh then, letting it slowly grow into a loud, lively thing. “It’s no small feat to fool me so well, Dragonslayer. I congratulate you for your success.” 

A smile stretched across Bard’s face, making the Man look years younger in Gandalf’s opinion, the change almost surprising to the gray wizard. It didn’t take an overly observant eye to notice the way Thranduil had seemed to soften in the time that he had been in Bard’s company, Gandalf clearly not being alone in this discovery. Elrond spared a moment to exchange a glance with the wizard, his mind clearly on the Elvenking and Man before them. 

Of course, with all of the pleasant emotions floating around, Gandalf accidentally broke the mood with a relatively uncomfortable question. “Tell me, Bard the Bowman - how is it that you have earned King Thranduil’s good graces in such a seemingly short amount of time?” 

Had any one of them aside from Gandalf been drinking anything at the moment, Gandalf was certain that they would have spit their drink, with the way his three companions reacted. Elrond seemed to recover the fastest, his curiosity clearly outweighing his diplomatic instincts in this situation. He adjusted to better face both Thranduil and Bard, his posture subtly shifting from feigned disinterest to complete interest in their current conversation. 

Now the subjects of Gandalf and Elrond’s combined scrutiny, Thranduil and Bard looked at each, seemingly debating between which of them would begin the story and where it would begin. It became clear after a moment that it was to be Thranduil. “Well, it is only fair to declare that the basics of our companionship was undoubtedly the evening several years ago in which Bard was fortunate enough to experience the pleasures of my kingdom’s dungeons,” the Elvenking began, Bard not quite catching his sudden bark of laughter at Thranduil’s choice of openings.

Though, clearly the Elvenking knew his companions well enough to know that, by beginning with the accident that led to Bard first stepping foot in Mirkwood, Thranduil now had both Elrond and Gandalf’s complete and undivided attention. Bard then adjusted, preparing to listen to Thranduil’s side of how it was Bard came to Mirkwood.

* * *

It was well into night by the time the tale wound down to a close, Bard and Thranduil having both contributed relatively equal amounts in order to make the tale seem balanced and of a relatively unbiased perspective. Of course, it was inevitable that they would gain a sort of a crowd in their telling - not of too many people, mind, only the people who would have thought it pertinent to attempt to find either Bard or Thranduil during their storytelling hours. Bard’s children had filed into the tent first, the sound of their father’s voice sending them in with laughter coloring their voices. Legolas and Tauriel followed shortly thereafter, apparently having followed the sound of Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda’s cheer.

“Which leaves us at the present,” Bard finished, taking a drink from his goblet, kindly brought to him by his children once they realized that this tale would go on for a while. He glanced at Thranduil, who was mirroring Bard’s position, both of them attempting to appear unconcerned by Gandalf and Elrond’s reactions to their story. 

Elrond’s expression had gone through many changes, mainly due to his apparent distaste for the Master’s treatment of Bard. Gandalf had seemed merely thoughtful, puffing his pipe the entire time. The tension in the tent seemed to fill the air as Legolas, Tauriel, and Bard’s children also waited for a reaction. “Well, that is all in the past now,” Gandalf said, breaking the silence that had followed Bard’s closing words. “Though I must admit, I am more than happy that these events have resulted in such a wonderful friendship between the two of you, King Thranduil and Bard the Bowman.” 

The collective sigh of relief gave way to a much friendlier atmosphere. “Shall we see if the people need any assistance in putting together an evening meal?” Bard rose from his seat, stretching his arms above his head so to get some of the stiffness that had settled in his bones out - sitting for several hours had not treated him well, his body missing the pleasant burn the constant movement provided. He looked around him to see that every other person in the tent had begun to move towards him, clearly concerned that Bard would collapse from his wounds. “My friends, I admit, I am touched by your concern. However you need not worry. I have learned from my earlier experience, and am capable of being cautious of any other damage I could possibly do to myself.” He gestured towards the tent’s entrance. “Shall we?” 

* * *

“What say you, Bard, Lord of Dale?” Bard made a “hm?” sound, looking up from where he’d been staring blankly at the tent’s wall. Thranduil smiled at Bard over his goblet of wine, clearly amused by the fact that Bard hadn’t been paying attention. “Do you believe that our friendship will last? Or will I be as cruel as the rumors say of me, and leave the instant Dale is secure in its new leadership?”

Bard sat back in his chair, seeming to actually consider Thranduil’s question. “Well, I for one cannot believe a word that any person has to say should it be referring to you and your heart of ice,” he said. Thranduil replied with a quiet “oh?” Bard nodded sagely. “But of course, Thranduil, King of the Greenwood. After all, how could the Elvenking with a heart of ice take in a Man and his three children after they were abused and mistreated by the equally heartless and greedy Master of Laketown?”

Thranduil let out a surprised laugh, startling Bard some. “Yes, and now my precious reputation of cold-heartedness and immovability in regards to the cares of others shall forever be ruined,” Thranduil drawled, waving his goblet through the air. He sighed dramatically, throwing his empty hand over his forehead. “Now I must forever suffer through my subjects expecting me to care when they come to me with their trivial matters.”

“As if you did not care before?” Bard raised his own goblet, a silent toast to Thranduil’s speechlessness before taking a sip. “You cannot deny it, not when you operated so diligently to ensure both the safety and comfort of myself and my children. How anyone could ever believe you to be emotionless, I do not understand,  _ aranín _ .”

The Elvenking rolled his eyes. “Before your arrival in my kingdom, I was a respected ruler and people feared that I could catch them doing something terrible at any moment. Now, I have been seen playing with the children of Dragonslayer and can no longer claim to strike fear into the hearts of my subjects.” Bard laughed at Thranduil’s serious tone. “Now what will my reputation say of me?”

It was Bard’s turn to roll his eyes, adjusting in his chair before speaking again. “It will say that you are a kind king who cares for the well-being of his people.” He raised his eyebrows at Thranduil, waiting for the Elvenking to attempt to deny it.

“None of this answers the question I asked of you,” Thranduil said, dodging Bard’s statement very smoothly. “Do you believe our friendship will last?”

Bard smiled at Thranduil, taking the return to their conversation’s original topic with ease. “I believe it will, King Thranduil. If only because my children will miss you as well as the other company they found in your kingdom. Do not believe just because I will be named Lord of Dale that you will have found yourself completely rid of my company,” Bard continued, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. 

Thranduil nodded then, raising his goblet. “To our friendship, may it last as long as the stars in the sky shine on,” he said, silently daring Bard to call Thranduil out on the implication of the “foreverness” of their friendship.

Instead, Bard raised his own goblet. “To our friendship, built by the terrors that we have suffered. May the years ahead prove far more peaceful.” 

With that, Bard and Thranduil drank from their goblets, and thus began a beautiful friendship.


	17. FINALLY ROMANCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter actually matches the first part of the last chapter, just because I thought it would be nice for some sort of continuity from where I left off before splitting.   
> I want to thank everyone who commented, reviewed, critiqued, favorited, followed, and even just looked at this story for taking an interest and most especially to everyone who's stayed with me through this wild ride. It means a lot to me that you took the time to pay attention to what was supposed to be a silly little au for me.   
> Sorry I'm so inconsistent in posting and I hope you all enjoy the final chapter - FINALLY ROMANCE!

Now, the way he saw it, Thranduil had two options. Option one: he left Bard’s tent right then and there and never spoke to the Bowman ever again. However, that would be childish and immature and highly unfavorable. Option two: he answered Bard’s relatively innocent question honestly as best he could without reopening those wounds. As painful as it sounded, it was the more preferable of Thranduil’s two options. He wasn’t given very long to decide, taking into account the fact that Bard was watching Thranduil with growing concern. 

“She was as I would imagine your wife was,” Thranduil began, noting how Bard seemed to retreat back inside himself at the mention of his wife. “Beautiful, loving, caring, kind, brave, stubborn” - here Bard let out a little snort, telling Thranduil that he was correct in that assumption - “everything I could ever dream of in a partner.” He was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should continue or not. “It nearly killed me when she was killed.” Thranduil looked at Bard again. “Why do you ask about her?” 

Bard shrugged. “Little is known about the manner in which Elves choose their significant others, almost nothing when the full scale of Man’s knowledge about Elves is taken into consideration. I know Men are fickle creatures who find it strange, if not impossible, to choose one partner for all of eternity. What I suppose it is I am trying to say is that I would like to understand more about the one you chose to be with you forever.” 

As seemingly a now-common occurrence when in Bard’s presence, Thranduil found himself speechless. “That is a very thoughtful action, Bowman. I thank you for the effort, though I am not certain I understand your motives.”

Once again, Bard shrugged. “When the opportunity presents itself, it is common for Men to discover the personalities of their friends as best they can. One method for extracting is often by asking about the people one’s friend surrounds himself with.”

Thranduil quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Is this an effort to discover whether or not I am worthy of your friendship, Bard? I was under the impression that with you as the new Lord of Dale that we could reforge the friendship between our peoples.”

Bard’s face lit up when he realized Thranduil was teasing him. “And I believed myself to be under the impression that the Elvenking of the Greenwood didn’t partake in the teasing of injured Men.” 

Said Elvenking’s smile grew, actually taking over his face as Thranduil became more relaxed. It faded some after a few moments. “I cannot stay here as long as I would like to,” he admitted, bringing the cheerful atmosphere down some. “My people will need me back in Mirkwood, and, no doubt, you and your people will require more supplies once you run out of the ones that we have already provided for you. However, I do believe that I can remain here until Dale is able to run itself with minimal interference from me and my people.” 

The unofficial Lord of Dale raised an eyebrow. “And how long do you believe that could take?”

“It could take a considerable amount of time, Lord Bard. So long as you are willing to put up with my company.” Thranduil glanced at Bard from where he had been staring at the tent’s wall in an attempt to look haughty and distant. Bard rolled his eyes at the Elvenking’s theatrics. 

It was a moment later that Bard realized Thranduil’s glamour was still down, and Thranduil was actually  _ relaxed _ , the Elvenking apparently paying no mind to the fact that his scars were still visible.  _ That _ was the moment that Bard began to feel truly honored to be Thranduil’s friend. “I think I could survive for an extended period of time in your company.” 

* * *

“Da, are you in love with the Elvenking?”

It was hard for Bard not jump when Tilda asked him that question. He looked at her, where Tilda was seated beside his cot. Elrond had decided not to take any more chances for another day or so and declared Bard to be cot-bound unless absolutely necessary. Which brought Bard back to the present, looking at Tilda curiously. “Why do you say that, Tilda?”

Tilda shrugged. “You just  _ look _ at each other a special way sometimes. Most of the time its when the other one isn’t looking, but sometimes you just catch each other  _ looking _ at the same time and it’s like there’s something different then when you’re looking at each other normally.” She shrugged again. “It’s kinda hard to explain.” 

“What’re we talking about?” Sigrid wandered into Bard’s tent without ceremony, Bain following close behind her. The two of them had been making sure that everyone was okay and at least beginning to adjust to life in Dale. Sigrid and Bain pulled up chairs beside Tilda, still waiting to hear an answer to Sigrid’s question.

Tilda looked at Sigrid, frowning in frustration. “I’m trying to figure out if Da’s in love with King Thranduil or not.” Bard looked at Sigrid and Bain, hoping that his children would sympathise with him and come to the conclusion that he was  _ not _ in fact in love with Thranduil.

Unfortunately, Sigrid immediately nodded in agreement with Tilda, the look on her face suggesting how bizarre she thought it was that Tilda even had to ask. “Da’s definitely in love with King Thranduil, even if he doesn’t know it yet,” she continued, giving her father a look as she did. “I think King Thranduil’s in love with Da too, but I don’t know. Elves are strange about their relationships - I think they only marry once, which I suppose makes sense since they’re mostly immortal.” 

Bain stared at Sigrid, a confused look on his face. “What  _ have _ you and Tauriel been talking about? Is this it? I thought you guys were talking about bows and arrows and different types of weapons all that time, maybe a little about Elvish.” He gave an overdramatic shudder. “Can’t believe my  _ sisters _ are talking about Da’s love life.” Sigrid rolled her eyes and shoved Bain off of his chair, making Tilda laugh loudly. Bain stuck his tongue out at them when he sat back up, all three of them oblivious to the stunned look on Bard’s face. 

“ _ Am _ I in love with Thranduil?” His children would have laughed at him but for the look on Bard’s face as he said it, suddenly reserved and somber. Instead, they all watched him as their father seemed to go through several stages of realization regarding his relationship with Thranduil. “By the stars,” Bard said after a minute, smiles growing on Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda’s faces. “I  _ am _ in love with Thranduil.” He looked at his children, all clearly amused by their father’s elongated realization. “How long have you three known?”

They all looked at each other before shrugging in unison. “Since a little after we got to Mirkwood, I think,” Sigrid said, glancing at Bain and Tilda to confirm her thoughts. “Plus there was that time King Thranduil called you  _ muin nín _ and Legolas was there. His face got all pink, and I think he was embarrassed about something. Legolas told King Thranduil something and then  _ he _ got all pink in the face. It was actually really funny, and  _ then _ they noticed that  _ we _ noticed them getting all pink in the face.” She tilted her head at Bard. “Didn’t you know this?” 

Bard sighed, sagging back against the cot’s headboard. “Apparently not,” he replied, able to follow his children’s trains of thought now. “Did Tauriel or Legolas happen to tell you what it is  _ muin nín _ means? Or will I have to suffer under the weight of not knowing, as the only other option is to ask them myself?” 

“My dear,” Tilda said cheerfully, taking in this conversation with unadulterated glee. She shrugged when Bard, Sigrid, and Bain all looked at her with confused expressions. “I asked Tauriel later and she was trying not to laugh when she told me. Apparently, Legolas told her about King Thranduil’s slip up just after it happened.” Tilda scrunched up her nose after a moment. “Does that mean that everyone else already knows that King Thranduil’s in love with Da?” 

Sigrid and Bain glanced at each other, following Tilda’s train of thought, though it wasn’t exactly easy. “What does that make Da then? King Thranduil’s consort?”

“Can we just…” All three of the children turned their attention back to Bard, who was now holding his hands up. “Not discuss this at this very moment?” His children nodded their heads at him, one at a time as they read their father’s internal panic. Bard let out a deep breath, his panic not improving as his children changed topics to literally anything else.

This was going to be a very long day indeed. 

* * *

Thranduil had gone to see Bard again that evening, not having had an opportunity to see the bowman during the majority of the day - not, at least, minus an audience of some sort. The Elvenking was curious to see what it was Bard planned for the future of his people in Dale, if he had done so at all. Thranduil was not so dismissive that he assumed Bard had not, but then again, he was also aware that Elrond had stressed the importance of rest upon the bowman. He knew from firsthand experience that when Elrond stressed something in regards to one’s health, Rivendell’s lord generally meant that his patient would not do anything without Elrond himself being present. The only thing the patient could do by oneself was rest.

With these thoughts on his mind, Thranduil entered Bard’s tent, hesitating just inside as he had the night before, awaiting Bard’s permission or lack thereof. “Thranduil,” Bard said, sounding more surprised than he probably should have upon noticing the Elvenking. “Come, sit with me. I would offer wine, but Lord Elrond has restricted me to water until I have healed more.” 

Thranduil nodded his head, pouring himself some water as well as refilling Bard’s cup before sitting in the chair beside Bard’s cot. “There is something on your mind,” the Elvenking said, handing Bard his cup. He gave the bowman a look, and Bard smiled apologetically at Thranduil, accepting the cup. 

Bard shook his head after a moment, taking a sip of water to avoid speaking. “It is nothing of importance,” he began after a lengthy silence. “I would not like to trouble your mind with such trivial matters.”

“If there is one thing I have learned from my friendship with you, Bard,” Thranduil started, cutting Bard off before the bowman could begin to ramble. “It is that speaking your mind is most often the better path, if not the easiest. Now, what is it that is troubling you?” The Elvenking settled further into his chair, indicating that he was not planning on moving from it until he knew what it was that was bothering Bard.

Another silence stretched out between them as Bard seemed to be debating his options and then deciding what to say in his head. Thranduil watched, amused, as Bard fiddled with the cup in his hands all while avoiding looking at the Elvenking. Bard sucked in a deep breath, and Thranduil shifted in his seat, waiting for Bard to speak. “Do you love me?”

When Thranduil did not respond, Bard shifted in the cot, fiddling with the cup again. “I do not mean to offend, only ask out of curiosity. It was something - a silly notion, brought up by my children earlier today. You do not have to answer and I will let the subject alone.” 

“I suppose I do,” Thranduil finally answered, his manner oddly calm as he managed to stop Bard’s ramble before the bowman could continue. He took a deep breath, and somewhere in the back of Bard’s mind, he realized that Thranduil had thought about this before. Thranduil looked up from where he had looked down at  _ his _ cup, meeting Bard’s eyes. “Do you love me?”

The longer Bard looked at Thranduil, the easier it was for him to see how very still the Elvenking was holding himself, like he was holding his breath in waiting for Bard’s answer. Bard smiled then, letting out a breath of relief. He held one of his hands out, a silent request for one of Thranduil’s own, which the Elvenking accepted by letting Bard take his hand. With his smile - which still made Thranduil feel privileged, no matter how many times he saw it - growing on his face, Bard placed a gentle kiss on Thranduil’s knuckles. “I’m afraid I do, Thranduil.” 

A hesitant smile appeared on Thranduil’s face, and Bard found no fault in the Elvenking’s caution. “What would you propose we do now, Bard?” Thranduil did not voice his concerns, but Bard heard them all the same in the silence that followed Thranduil’s single question. 

Bard hummed, carefully considering how to word his answer. “I say we follow where this love of our’s leads us, and accept whatever consequences may come our way. I understand why you would not wish to follow this path,” he continued, seeing Thranduil open his mouth to speak. “But that is my opinion on the matter, and I will honor whatever decisions you make in regards to it.” 

Thranduil pursed his lips, considering Bard’s answer. “You may be right. Legolas will not say anything, but I can read it in his silence, the way he worries for me and thinks I am too closed off from the world. Perhaps you can help me relearn the ways of the world.” He took Bard’s hand, the one still holding his own, and switched the position of their hands. With a quick, sure smile, Thranduil pressed a kiss to Bard’s knuckles. That done, he reclaimed his cup with his free hand, smiling at Bard. “Shall we make this official?” 

Bard nodded in agreement, tightening his hold on his own cup. “To the future,” the bowman began, raising the cup. “And the many wonders and terrors it may hold for us, made bearable by our friendship, built by the terrors that we have suffered. May the years ahead prove far more peaceful.”

Thranduil nodded in return, raising his cup in toast as well. “To the future, and the state of our hearts. May our friendship last as long as the stars in the sky shine on and our love develop in its own time,” he said, silently daring Bard to call Thranduil out on the implication of the “foreverness” of their friendship.

The bowman shook his head, smiling at Thranduil. They knocked their cups together with a gentle  _ clink _ and drank to the toast, ready to face the future, whatever it might hold. 


End file.
